


Rumors

by Kabby_Kru



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Almost Kiss, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Angst, Developing Relationship, Drama, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Drama, First Dates, Firsts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Held Gaze, Humor, Idiots in Love, Loud Sex, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Romance, Selective Obliviousness - somewhat, Shameless Smut, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Sports, UST, We'll Get There - Eventually, Will They or Won't They?, longing looks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 55,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25290457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabby_Kru/pseuds/Kabby_Kru
Summary: Abby Griffin has the best friends anyone could ever ask for, a beautiful daughter, and a successful career, but her life is overturned when her marriage to Jake Griffin of nearly two decades comes to a brutal end. With her daughter Clarke heartbroken from the change, Abby has a lot to contend with.When her daughter's developing anger issues begin to affect her passion for soccer, Abby knows she must step in to help. She certainly didn’t expect to be so attracted to her daughter's coach: the handsome former professional soccer player named Marcus Kane. Word travels fast in a small town like Arkadia. He's her daughter's coach, she's technically still married, what would people think? When the two have an instant attraction to one another, it leads to them finding difficulty in staying apart for very long. And then... the rumors spread.follow me on twitter @kabby_kru for updates along the way, early sneak peeks, playlists, and aesthetic collages ❤️
Relationships: Abby Griffin & Marcus Kane, Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane
Comments: 304
Kudos: 199





	1. Welcome to Arkadia

**Author's Note:**

> Based on "Sweet Magnolias" on Netflix
> 
> a big THANK YOU to Mel for being my amazing beta and mentor! and a shout out to all my friends answering my soccer questions! 😂 Love you guys!

Abby couldn’t stand to look at him. She sat cross-legged in the leather office chair, nervously shaking her foot in her too-tight high heels, the sting of a blister paining her with every movement. She could feel his glaring eyes on her from across the dark mahogany wood table. She felt a chill in the air and crossed her arms to her chest as she prayed for the meeting to come to an end.

She stared blankly across the room, the voices of the attorneys muffled beneath the sounds of her racing thoughts and the obnoxiously loud ticking clock. She listened off and on, but she’d spaced out most of the meeting. The lawyer jargon went over her head and she’d already agreed to most of everything that was being discussed.

“My client recognizes the _deep attachment_ that your client has to his Mercedes and will not contest it. She will retain the Buick Enclave,” said Callie.

“We won’t have a problem with that,” Sinclair chimed.

“Excellent. Now moving onto the disposition of the family home—”

“My client requests that the family home be sold, and the proceeds divided equitably between parties.” Sinclair’s face told them that he didn’t want to say those words, but a job was a job.

Abby’s face blanched. Suddenly, words flew from her mouth that she never thought she’d ever think, let alone say, to her husband of nearly two decades. “How could you,” she roared as she shot out of her seat, the chair behind her swiftly rolling back and clacking against the wall. “Think of your daughter, Jake! Think of Clarke! How can you even sleep at night? You’re not worth the skin and bones that were wasted to make you.”

Seeing red, she stormed off in a fit of anger, bringing the mediation to an abrupt end. She slammed the door to the office, rolled her ankle in the hallway, and only stopped just long enough to take off her high heels before she hobbled outside to the nearest bench. Then and only then could she finally cry. There were people around and she knew that word would spread fast, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t hold it together any longer. She found herself wishing that she had a different life. Divorce was hell. Being strong was no longer easy and she felt as if every atom inside her was crumbling. That divorce was breaking her. She could feel herself falling apart. Her world was burning and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She cried with such a force as if her tears could extinguish the flames. Salty drops fell from her chin and covered her blouse. Her face muscles ached, her ribs pained, and her head throbbed. She held her face in her hands as the tears stopped falling. She had no more tears to cry. Her shoulders shook as she heaved.

She and Jake got married three months before graduating college. On graduation night, she got pregnant with Clarke. Despite both having an education, it was tough finding jobs right away. Jake never wanted to leave the small town of Arkadia which they called home, so their opportunities were limited. They lived in a little run down house on Whippoorwill Lane, surviving off of ramen noodles and easy mac most nights as Jake started out making just above minimum wage in a factory just to make ends meet while Abby stayed home to raise Clarke until she was old enough to go to school, as they just couldn’t justify the cost of childcare at the time. During the winters, they relied on passion to keep them warm. Through all the years of bad weather, they scraped and climbed and in the end, love got them through every storm. They didn’t have a dime, but they had one another. Abby could still recall the taste of the cheap red wine they drank from a box to celebrate their one year wedding anniversary. For years, she looked back on those days and smiled. Now, those memories broke her heart.

Seventeen years later, Abby worked as a nurse at the local hospital and Jake as an automotive engineer in the city while they strived to provide a better life for Clarke than either of them ever had. They lived the life they always dreamed of having; they had a big house, new cars, separate bathrooms, separate closets, even, in the end, separate bedrooms. The more successful they became, the bigger the homes became, and the more distant they became. They built a world where they didn’t have to share, yet all of their money couldn’t buy what they had in the early years. They truly had it all when all they had was love. But those days were long gone.

She could never prove it, but she just knew Jake had been unfaithful to her. All of those long nights coming home from “work,” their constant bickering which eventually led to screaming matches, their agonizingly slow descent from a loving married couple to co-parents who could barely stand to be in the same room together. Clarke nearly begged them to get divorced before Abby even filed for separation, but since it became reality, Clarke had trouble adjusting. Abby tried to be strong around Clarke and she always hated to fight in front of her and involve her child in their grown-up drama, but Clarke was wise beyond her years with exceptional hearing. Kids really do notice everything.

“Abby,” a soft voice called. She felt her friend’s hand rub her slumped shoulder. She winced slightly. It even hurt to be touched.

“I’m sorry, Cece,” she said without looking up. She didn’t want to face her friend. She felt so embarrassed over her outburst. Besides, she probably looked like a mess and she knew her mascara would be smeared. Why didn’t she apply waterproof mascara that morning?

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the most amazing thing I’ve seen you do since you beat up that Johnson boy in second grade for calling me a stupid head.”

Abby laughed shyly and finally met her friend’s eyes as she made room for her on the bench.

Callie sighed. “Abby, this is hard but you will get through this. I’ve got you. Sinclair came on strong because that’s his job. But I am going to beat him down because that’s my job. You’ll get everything you deserve and then some.” She rubbed Abby’s leg. “I promise.”

Abby shook her head in disbelief as she mulled over the meeting that she’d just left. “Clarke and I are going to have to find a new place to live… She’s had so many memories there… Her favorite dog is buried in the yard…”

“I won’t let that happen, Abby. I will fight it. That man is out of his mind.”

Abby exhaled then swallowed all the worry that tried to plague her. She had to have faith in Callie. She checked her watch. “I have to get going. I need to pick up Clarke from soccer practice.” She stood and paused for a moment, composing herself, before she braved to face her friend once more. “Thank you.”

Callie met her thanks with a warm smile and then her arms were around her neck in that familiar tight hug that Abby’s been privy to since Kindergarten. “I’ve got you, darling. Have a great weekend.”

***

As soon as Abby parked her car she noticed the unfamiliar figure towering over the girls’ soccer team whom she could only guess was Clarke’s new coach. Her pulse quickened. He stood elevated and confident with hands resting on his hips, watching from the sidelines as the girls scrimmaged. His golden brown skin radiated under the August sun and his smile was a glowing white that was nearly blinding. He ran a hand through his hair and an unruly curl had already fallen right back into place by the time his hand returned to his side. His earthy brown hair was like waves of the ocean and when he turned his head she could see hints of grey strands paired along with a light brown tint from the sunlight. Stunned, she noticed that he was turning to look at her and she suddenly felt self-conscious. He was fully facing her then and he began to step away from the sidelines and towards the parking lot. She followed suit and peeled herself out of her leather car seat, cursing the late summer heat as her sweaty thighs made a sound similar to that of ripping a piece of tape off of a wall. She caught a glimpse of herself in the car door mirror and then she wished she hadn’t. Her eyes were still puffy from crying and she’d gotten extremely sweaty when sitting outside on the bench which caused her top to stick to her back and her hair to be a humidity-riddled frizzy mess. She quickly ran her hands through her hair and flattened the frizz as much as possible, then did her best to wipe as much smeared mascara from under her eyes as possible. She mentally rolled her eyes at herself. What did it matter how she looked, anyway? She was in the middle of a hellish divorce.

She didn’t walk far to meet him as he’d already made it to the edge of the parking lot by the time she’d composed herself enough for introductions. He removed his wayfarer sunglasses and outstretched his hand.

“Hi! I’m Marcus Kane. I’m the new coach. And you are?”

She was nearly at a loss for words. Clarke’s last coach was terminated last month for “creating a toxic work environment” and she’d hadn’t had the pleasure yet of meeting the new coach. Clarke didn’t have much to say about him, except that he was a former professional soccer player; but then again, Clarke didn’t have much to say about anything—not since the separation. She smiled politely at Coach Kane. “I’m Abby. Abby Griffin.” It stung to even use that last name anymore. “I’m Clarke’s mom.”

“Oh, Mrs. Griffin! Perfect! I… was hoping to talk to you. If you have a moment, that is.”

From the look on his face, Abby already suspected it wasn’t a good talk. She furrowed her brow. “Is there a problem?”

Coach Kane sighed. “I hate for our first meeting to go this way but… I’ve been having some trouble with Clarke.”

Abby gasped. “Oh.”

“I believe in Clarke, I’ve only been her coach for a few weeks but she’s very talented and seems to have a good heart.”

“If you’re starting with that, it must be a really big problem…”

Coach Kane laughed nervously. “She and Octavia were at each other during practice. I made them both run laps and Clarke will be here momentarily.”

Abby shook her head. The news didn’t even surprise her. “Clarke and Octavia have been feuding since the sandbox.”

“Bit of a longstanding rivalry, I take it,” Coach Kane chuckled.

“You could say that. That’s still no excuse for Clarke’s behavior and I’m so sorry about this. I keep telling Clarke how lucky she is to be coached by a professional soccer player.”

“ _Former_ professional player,” he corrected shyly.

Her eyes fell to his outfit, a blue and white soccer jersey and matching blue shorts with the logo of his former team. “Still, it’s amazing and she shouldn’t be taking that for granted.”

“Well, thank you.”

They shared a silent moment and a smile before he broke the silence between them. “Uh… Clarke, she’s really been slacking and she’s had a rather negative attitude. The way she’s been playing this week, there’s no way I’ll feel comfortable using her as a center midfielder in the game tomorrow… I don’t mean to overstep but… are there any issues that I should know about?”

Abby frowned. “Um… Yeah, she’s had a bit of a rough patch…”

“Ah. Junior year is a beast.”

“It certainly is. And she’s hard on herself…” Before she could continue, Abby noticed her daughter leaving the field and trudging towards the parking lot. She opened her mouth to speak to her but she walked right past them with her head hung down and her shoulders slumped and quietly climbed into Abby’s vehicle, slamming the car door. Abby closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath, offering Coach Kane an apologetic smile. “I should take her home… Thank you for keeping me informed. I’ll deal with her.”

Coach Kane nodded. “Drive safe.”

***

He watched as she drove off, unable to get her pretty smile out of his mind. The scent of her perfume still lingered but not long enough. He sighed and turned on his heels to head back to the field. He saw Aubrey Adams still sitting on the bench, scrolling through her phone, her mom late to pick her up as always. He’d have to call and remind her that yes, she does have a daughter, and yes practice ended thirty minutes ago. On his way back to the field, he was stopped by an old friend.

“Hey, Marcus.”

“Indra! Hi! Congratulations on the new job, Miss Vice Principal.” He playfully elbowed her in the ribs and shot her a smile.

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah, thank you,” she said, then cleared her throat. “Listen, was that Abby Griffin I saw you talking to?”

“Oh… Yeah,” he said, biting his lip in thought. “I’ve been having some issues with her daughter, Clarke. Bad attitude, not playing well with others, slacking off…”

Indra pursed her lips. “Clarke has good reason. Her parents are going through a _nasty_ divorce right now. Rumor has it that Jake, Clarke’s dad, was cheating on Abby with a young intern at the hospital but he never admitted to it.” She shrugged. “It could all just be rumors. You know how these small towns are.”

He chuckled nervously and gulped at the thought of living in a small town. He’d only just moved to town in the middle of July and it seemed that by the time school started back, nearly everyone knew who he was already. Rumors spread that he was a famous hockey player, a basketball player, and a baseball player. Almost everyone had a different story and image of him before he ever got a chance to introduce himself. “Yeah, everybody knows everybody’s business here, it seems. It definitely makes me miss the city.” He pulled out his phone to send Aubrey Adams’s mom a quick text to remind her that practice was over, then directed his attention back to Indra. “I asked Clarke’s mom earlier if there was anything going on that I should know about but she was pretty vague…”

“Well, it’s personal stuff. And Abby Griffin is a rather private person. Word has it, Abby had a bit of a breakdown in town this morning. Poor thing was a hot mess.”

The indifferent mask he’d been wearing faded into concern. Marcus shook his head slowly, feeling pity for this woman he’d only just met. “Wow. I can’t even imagine what she must be going through.”

“Yeah… I just thought you should know. It helps to understand kids better when you know what’s going on at home.”

Marcus nodded in silent agreement, the memories of his own experience flooding back like a rushing tsunami. He kicked the dirt with his foot. His voice low, he worked up the nerve to speak. “I went through the same thing with my parents when I was around Clarke’s age, so I can unfortunately relate. Thanks, Indra.”

She smiled sympathetically at her friend. “No problem, Marcus. I know you’ll be a great teacher and coach and I’m excited to have you here at Arkadia High. See you on Monday at the staff meeting. Have a great weekend.”

***

At home, Abby washed and peeled potatoes and prepared them for boiling. She lit a wild cherry candle and basked in the tart aroma, her head feeling clearer by the second. Upbeat pop music blared from her iPhone and she danced around the kitchen as she hummed along to her favorite songs. She placed the potatoes into the boiling pot of water and dumped the scraps into the compost bin. A tall figure with broad shoulders emerged through the front door and startled her.

“Jake!” Her heart raced and her head began to spin. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry, Abby.” He placed an apologetic hand on her shoulder. “I’m just not used to knocking yet…”

She rolled her eyes and removed his hand from her shoulder. She sighed. “What do you want Jake? I’m a bit busy.”

His eyes roamed the kitchen and then the living room. “Where’s Clarke?”

Abby turned away from him and removed a head of lettuce from the refrigerator. “Upstairs doing homework. What do you want?” she asked, punctuating every word, hoping to get her point across that she was not in the mood for beating around the bush.

Jake exhaled. “I’m sorry about this morning. That’s not how I wanted it to go at all.”

“Oh really? What do you expect me to say? ‘I’m sorry my reaction to you wanting to sell the family home didn’t live up to your expectations’? Not happening, Jake. That was an asshole move. I expected better, even from you!” Abby turned to face him, her rage blinding her from fact that she was now wielding a gleaming butcher’s knife, only realizing it when Jake’s eyes grew wide and he took two giant steps back. She carefully, and, admittedly, _reluctantly_ , laid the knife back onto the cutting board.

“I know.”

“And another thing—Wait, what? You know?”

“I know. It was greedy of me and I wasn’t thinking of you or Clarke. You deserve to stay here. Clarke’s memories are here and she loves it. I can’t take that away from her.” His rich voice was riddled with contrition and his aqua blue eyes pleaded for repentance. “I messed up, Abby. I’m sorry. I’ve already talked to Sinclair to adjust the paperwork.”

Abby blinked in surprise. “Jake… I… Thank you.”

“I’ll take the condo.”

“How generous of you,” Abby deadpanned, unable to hide her mischievous grin.

His weathered face lit up but she quickly realized he wasn’t looking at her.

“Dad,” their teenage daughter exclaimed from the base of the stairs and before they both knew it, she’d jogged her way to the kitchen. “I’m surprised to see you here,” Clarke said as she and her father embraced.

“Hey kiddo, how was practice today?”

“It was okay,” Clarke shrugged. “Are you going to stay for dinner?” Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement until she noticed her parents’ wary faces.

“I… would but I have to get going. Raincheck?”

Clarke merely nodded.

“I’ll see you, kiddo.” Jake offered them both a parting wave and headed out the door.

Clarke’s face fell. She turned on her heels and walked silently to the stairs to go back into her dungeon-like room.

“Dinner’s nearly ready,” Abby called, merrily. The bedroom door slammed upstairs. Abby forced a smile, continued to speak only to herself. “We’re having steaks! Yum!”

Ten minutes later, Abby called for Clarke to come downstairs for dinner. When she didn’t answer, Abby rolled her eyes then unplugged her phone from the charger above the kitchen counter and texted her daughter: “dinner” accompanied with a fork and knife emoji. Soon after, she heard footsteps padding down the wooden stairs, the same old familiar second-to-last step creaking as she descended.

Clarke sat at the dining room table in an over-sized t-shirt and stained sweat pants. Abby filled Clarke’s plate with mashed potatoes and salad and seared steak. She frowned. Her daughter’s wavy blonde hair which was pulled back in a ponytail when Abby picked her up from practice was now a matted mess resting on her shoulders. She still smelled of turf and sweat from the scrimmage.

“Sweetie…” Abby hesitantly began as she sat down across from her. Worried lines formed above her brow. “Have… Have you showered?”

Clarke stared blankly at her plate of food and absentmindedly moved a piece of steak from one side of her plate to the other.

“Clarke?”

“Hm?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

Abby didn’t push, she didn’t pry, she just ate her dinner. It killed her to see Clarke this way, but she was at a loss on how to handle the situation. They were all hurting.

By the time Abby had finished eating, Clarke was still sitting in silence, the majority of her food on her plate. She could see Clarke was struggling, but the day’s practice needed to be discussed.

“How’s your food?” she asked nonchalantly.

“It’s great,” Clarke said, her voice cracking, barely above a whisper.

Abby’s eyes roamed her daughter’s face, her expression inscrutable, her sky-blue eyes nearly glazed over. “Do you have anything to tell me about your day?”

“No.”

She sighed. “What about practice?”

“I told you in the car that it was fine.”

Abby said a silent prayer asking for the maker above to give her strength. Parenting was difficult, but parenting a teenage girl felt impossible on days like this. She took several deep breaths, trying to remain centered. “That’s not what Coach Kane had to say,” she said, her tone remaining neutral. “I’ve waited all evening for you to fess up but you continue to lie to me.”

Clarke slammed her fork down, causing the dinnerware on the table to shake and clack. “Okay, mom, fine! Octavia’s a bitch, Coach is a hard ass, and I had to run laps. Is that enough detail?”

Despite herself, her voice began to rise as the red crept up on her neck. “Watch your language and watch your tone, young lady.”

“Can I watch it in my room?”

“Clarke,” Abby warned. “I’ve had myself a day and the last thing I need is disrespect from you to ice the cake.”

“I…”

“Go upstairs before you say something that I will _make_ you regret.”

“Thanks, that’s exactly what I wanted, anyway,” she mumbled, which Abby turned a deaf ear to. Clarke stormed off, once again slamming her door, which was becoming a common occurrence in their house as of late.

Abby regarded the space where Clarke had been standing for several beats before heading into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of white wine. She leaned against the kitchen counter and pinched the bridge of her nose, her headache now worse than ever. She peered at her glass of wine, then at the bottle. Decidedly, she grabbed the glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, then headed to the living room. She plopped down onto the sofa and stretched her legs out on the ottoman. Gulping down the first glass of wine, she searched the TV guide until she found a guilty pleasure reality TV show playing reruns all night. She changed to the channel and topped herself off with another glass of wine. She was thankful that she was off of work the next three days.


	2. We Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Coach Kane have a conference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support for chapter 1! I was blown away by the response. I hope you enjoy this new chapter! <3
> 
> Inspired by Sweet Magnolias on Netflix

Abby said goodbye to Carolann who was working the front desk and closed the door to the office behind her. She had to stop by the school to drop off some signed paper work and Clarke _begged_ her to wait at least three minutes in the car before she stepped foot onto school property. Abby took offense to the suggestion but she recalled how she was at Clarke’s age so she obliged and gave her daughter the head start into the school building. She was hoping to start the week off on the right foot.

The echoing hallways of Arkadia High were nearly empty save for a handful of lingering teenagers playing hooky and one impassioned young couple making out in a corner. Vice Principal Indra Woods, who was patrolling the halls on her usual morning route, walked briskly towards the couple and sent them both off to class. The young gentleman scurried off and tripped over his own Converse shoe. His books scattered across the glossy white floors, the sound of rustling papers filling the hallway. Abby grinned, reminiscing on her own memories as a high schooler. She could still hear the sound of sneakers squeaking on the gym floor, the smell of the rubber basketballs, the feel of the backpack slung over her shoulder that was crammed full of books ranging from Anatomy to Trigonometry to Shakespeare.

A slam of a light blue locker jolted her from her thoughts and Abby turned to the noise. To her surprise, she saw her own daughter, blatantly disregarding the tardy bell that blared overhead.

“ _Clarke_?”

Clarke turned to face her mother, the whites in her eyes suddenly visible all around, her jaw falling open.

“Why aren’t you in class?” Abby asked, donning a scornful glare.

The teenager stuttered. “I… I had to go to the bathroom.”

Abby filled in the space between the two of them. She regarded the teenager with suspense, ignoring the scent of cigarette smoke wafting from her clothes. She decided not to press any further at that moment; Clarke was already late for class. She paused, raising a brow. “Well, you need to hurry up, the tardy bell rang. Get to class!”

“Mom,” she whispered. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Get. To. Class,” Abby whispered back, motioning towards the classroom-lined hallway with a flick of her neck.

Clarke merely nodded and leisurely made her way up the stairs to her homeroom.

Abby shook her head in wonder, musing over where the jovial little girl who loved school and dreamed of being a teacher went. Now she was getting into fights at soccer practice, showing up late to class, and skipping meals. She couldn’t help but feel it was all her fault because of the divorce. She had plenty of friends who stayed together for the kids, waiting to split up after the kids graduated high school. Abby couldn’t help but find herself feeling selfish for choosing her own happiness over her daughter’s.

As she started to leave, she turned the corner to see Coach Kane with a Sprite in his hand, wearing a grey pullover sweater and black pants. His hair looked a bit tamer than last week, possibly due to him being indoors. He looked great in his soccer uniform at practice but she had to admit, he looked rather handsome in his teacher wardrobe as well. She eyed him with confusion.

“Coach Kane,” she said in greeting. “Bit warm out for a sweater, isn’t it?”

The tall man chuckled and crinkled his eyes. “It’s not too warm in _here_ , Mrs… Erm… Abby,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, her name almost sounding like a question. “Sorry, I’m not sure how to address you… I’m assuming _not_ Mrs. Griffin?” he grimaced.

Abby grinned understandingly. “Abby’s fine,” she assured him, leaning against a locker. “Mrs. doesn’t really sit well with me these days… So you must have heard?” Her tone remained casual. She was used to discussing it at this point.

Coach Kane shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah, and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about last week. I had no idea about your… um,” he stammered, waving his free hand around as he searched for the right word, “...situation.” He nervously took a sip from his Sprite, exhaling a small sigh of relief as he swallowed. He shoved his free hand into his pocket, his eyes wandering the halls.

Abby watched his bulging Adam’s apple rise and fall as he gulped, finding it difficult to look the extremely attractive man in the eyes as she spoke. “I assure you,” she began with arched lips, using the old sales trick of looking at his forehead in order to avoid the dark depths of his luminous brown eyes, “you can say ‘messy divorce.’ That cat is way out of the bag and my skin is getting thicker by the day.”

He frowned, a deep expression of worry haunted his eyes. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” she said with a soft smile.

“So,” he began, throwing the now-empty Sprite can away in the bin adjacent to him. “I understand what I’m asking, but I think that you and Mr. Griffin and I need to have a meeting on how all of this is affecting Clarke.”

Abby furrowed her brow. “Did Clarke talk to you?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

“No,” he said firmly, “but there are issues that we need to discuss. Clarke really struggled at the game on Saturday.”

She nodded, thinking back to Clarke’s performance over the past weekend. Coach Kane stayed true to his word and arranged for Clarke to play as a defender instead of center midfielder. “I’ll speak with Jake and I’ll get back to you,” she said.

“Okay.”

“Thanks,” she said, forcing a smile.

He checked his watch. “My planning period is almost over, but it was good seeing you again, Mrs—” he shook his head, correcting himself, “I mean, Abby.”

“You as well, Coach Kane. See you soon.”

“Oh,” he said as she turned to leave, catching her by surprise. “I hope it wouldn’t be untoward of me to offer you my number, but that’d be the quickest way you could set up a conference with me.”

She could feel the pink spreading across her cheeks. “No, not untoward at all. I have most of Clarke’s teacher’s numbers,” she said in a nervous laugh, attempting to make the situation seem less inappropriate, ignoring the topic that all of Clarke’s other teachers weren’t nearly as attractive or single or _male_. She offered him her cell phone and he typed his number on the keypad then pressed the green button to call his cell. He handed her cell phone back and then typed something into his phone.

“There. Now I’ll know it’s you who’s texting me when you request a conference,” he said, slipping his phone into his back pocket.

The corners of her lips raised slightly. “That’s very kind, thank you.”

He scratched his beard and bowed his head, gazing at the freshly waxed floors. By his furrowed brow and the opening of his mouth, it seemed he wanted to say more, but whatever was on his mind was kept at bay with the tightening of his lips as his mouth snapped shut. Their eyes met and they shared a coquettish grin, the moment lingering, only to be interrupted by the sounding of the bell. They glanced at the clock above them in unison. His planning period must have ended. “I’ll see you around,” he said, finally. With a hasty wave as one last goodbye, he rounded the corner and Abby craned her neck just enough to see him slip into the first classroom on the right, a sign on the door saying “Mr. Kane’s Health Class.”

***

At 3:15 Abby was back at the school to pick up Clarke. The teenager quietly climbed into the car and immediately got on her phone to text her friends. Abby pulled out of the parking lot, deep in thought, mulling over how to start the conversation, dreading the aftermath.

“Clarke?” she began, softly.

No response.

“Clarke.” She spoke louder that time and gently nudged her daughter in the shoulder with one hand, still keeping her eyes on the road.

An exasperated sigh escaped the teen. “ _What_ , Mom?”

“I spoke to Coach Kane again,” she began, pulling a lever up to activate her right turn signal in the car, “and he seems to think that your dad and I need to have a conference with him about your behavior at school.” She cut the wheel to turn right onto 8th Street SE.

Clarke huffed a sardonic laugh. “Of course he does.”

“What does that mean?”

“Mom,” the blonde snapped, “how do you think you’d be doing right now if you were still in school?”

Abby exhaled slowly. “I see your point. But it _still_ needs to be discussed. We just want to help you.”

“Fine. Meet with Coach Kane. But please don’t tell Dad.”

She cut the wheel to the right and pulled easily into their wraparound driveway, shifting the gear to put the car in park. Feeling a surge of frustration, she placed her head against the steering wheel. “Clarke, your father has to know—”

“No, he doesn’t, Mom. It’s always been his dream that I be a star player since he could never fulfill that dream himself. He’d be _pissed_ if he found out about this.”

Abby hung her head down, feeling defeated. She raised a hand to her face and rubbed her eyes, feeling the pressure of a stress headache coming on. A pregnant pause was disrupted by a sharp exhale. Finally, she spoke. “Okay,” was all she had to say. Clarke had been through enough. She could see the desperation in her daughter’s eyes, pleading not to tell her father. Abby gave in.

That evening, Abby worked up her courage to text Coach Kane to request a conference. He texted back almost immediately to discuss a date and a time. They kept it short and professional and quickly agreed on Wednesday at 3:45.

“See you then,” he texted, punctuating with a smiley face.

“Looking forward to it,” Abby replied back, returning the gesture of a smiley face.

***

Her wedge heels clacked against the tile floors, the sound bouncing off of the walls and causing a loud echo. It was after hours at the high school and the only other person in the hallway was the janitor, Theo Jaha, sweeping paper airplanes and spitballs from the off-white colored floors. He hummed along to a tune blaring through his earbuds and offered a friendly smile and a nod as Abby passed.

She finally neared Coach Kane’s classroom and her heart began pounding. She’d been to plenty of parent-teacher conferences but she’d never been this nervous about one. _Get it together, Abby_ , she said to herself. The door to his classroom was ajar but she knocked quickly before entering. He turned, surprised by the knock, and jolted from his chair to greet her.

“Abby, come in.” He met her halfway and shook her hand, then guided her to a table in the back of his classroom. He motioned to one of the two student chairs that sat opposite to his pleather swivel chair. “Please, have a seat while we… wait for Mr. Griffin?” he said in a question as he took a seat.

“It’s just going to be me today,” she said simply, sitting down across from him. Following the look of confusion on Coach Kane’s face, she elaborated. “Jake doesn’t know about the meeting at Clarke’s request.”

He folded his hands atop of the kidney-shaped table and chewed on his lip in thought. “It’s a lot to process when you’re sixteen.”

“Yeah,” Abby agreed. “It’s a lot to process when you’re _not_ sixteen,” she said, a nervous laugh escaping her.

Coach Kane’s brow furrowed, the look of concern plaguing his piercing brown eyes. The worry remained only in his eyes, however, as when he spoke he decided to get straight to business. “Look,” he began with a sigh, “Clarke is a good kid, and I feel for her, I do, but I can’t ignore her behavior. She could lose her center midfielder position permanently if her attitude and performance don’t improve.”

Abby stared out the window in thought. She watched as a butterfly fluttered by, landing on a shrub. “Well,” she said, her voice unwavering, “actions have consequences. I’ve been drilling that into Clarke since she was old enough to understand.”

Coach Kane removed a paper from a stack on the table and placed it in front of Abby. “Her grades are down, as well… Across the board. If she doesn’t get them up, she could end up on academic probation and on the bench.”

“She’s better than this,” she said under her breath. “What do we do?”

“Well, I think that Clarke needs to know that the adults in her life are committed to helping her turn things around.”

“Yes, I agree. A united front with the same goals.”

“Yes, but pardon my saying so, but that united front _should_ include her dad.”

Abby’s face fell. He had a point, but it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “I’ll speak to Jake.”

He nodded. “Like I said, Clarke’s a great girl. As far as I’m concerned she got a bad deal.” Abby pulled a face at his remark, saying ‘You don’t think’. “You both did,” he added with the utmost sincerity in his voice. She met his warm gaze and she thought she was going to melt like a forgotten candy bar on a summer day.

He was the first to break the comfortable silence between them. He said he had another meeting and reluctantly stood and then led her out the door. They stopped in the hallway, sharing soft smiles and longing gazes, causing it to be nearly impossible for Abby to ignore the feelings he caused her to have whenever she was in his presence. _He’s Clarke’s coach_ , she reminded herself. Both of them contemplated on what to say next. Coach Kane’s eyes roamed, as if he was studying her face. He eventually spoke.

“You’re a great mom, Abby,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “And Clarke is a fantastic girl. You’ll get through this. Both of you.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and she realized how large he was compared to her small frame. She swallowed hard and placed her hand on top of his that rested on her shoulder. “Thank you,” was all she could muster despite the knot that formed in her throat. She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall from her almond eyes. She felt as if he was about to hug her but then she heard a voice from behind which startled them both. They jerked their hands away from one another and took a step back. It was the next mom who was meeting Coach for a conference. She greeted him with a nasally drawl, batting eyelashes, and a cloying smile that nearly made bile rise in Abby’s throat. She was adorned in floral from head to toe and her makeup was a few shades too light for her skin tone. He invited her inside the classroom and told her he’d be right with her. He directed his attention back to Abby and frowned apologetically.

“Sorry about that," he said, laughing awkwardly. "She’s always early." He trailed off in thought for a moment. They both knew _why_ she was early, but neither would say it, although the embarrassingly obvious flirting the woman was doing as soon as she arrived was a tell. It was silly but Abby found herself feeling mildly jealous.

“That’s alright… Thank you, Coach Kane.”

“Call me Marcus,” he said with a smile. “See you again soon,” he said before stepping back into his classroom, giving Abby one final wave goodbye. 


	3. We Keep Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby decides to get out of the house and go to the gym where she runs into Marcus Kane, later, Clarke struggles to stay focused at her soccer game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EM!!! 
> 
> also, I know nothing about soccer!! sorry for any mistakes. I did my best with internet research. and thank you to Lindsay for helping me with soccer questions and also shout out to her awesome kabby soccer fic Kickin' and Screamin', go read it :)

Thursday was long and grueling for Abby. Her feet dragged across the concrete of her driveway as she’d just arrived home from her shift at the hospital. She’d been hit, spat on, and cursed at all in one shift. It came with the job, but those days were never easy. Clarke was just getting off of the bus as Abby was searching in her purse for her keys. The pair greeted one another as Abby unlocked the door to their home. As they stepped inside, the smell of marinated pork in the crock pot wafted through the air and Abby’s stomach rumbled. She tiredly sat her purse on the counter and microwaved some vegetables, put on some rice on the stove, and prepared the pork on a plate.

During dinner, Abby nursed her glass of rosé wine and enjoyed her food. She was pleased to see Clarke eating a bit more than she had been the past few weeks. She looked down at her plate contemplatively, unsure she wanted to ruin her daughter’s pleasant mood, but knew the issue needed to be discussed. She cleared her throat as she began.

“Clarke… The other day when I was at your school and you were late for class…” She hesitated, biting her lips. “You smelled like smoke.”

Clarke pulled a face, her immediate reaction being defense. Before she could speak, Abby stopped her. “Be honest, Clarke.”

Clarke stared off to the side, quiet for a moment. She swallowed hard. “Some group of girls offered me to take a puff in the bathroom… It sounds stupid and cliché, I know, but everybody else was doing it and they pressured me into it. They said ‘Don’t be a little bitch.’ I get enough shit from the kids at school over the rumors about Dad.” She shook her head slowly. Abby chose to ignore her daughter’s choice of words. “I just wanted to finally fit in again,” Clarke croaked. A single tear began to fall down Clarke’s rosy cheek, dripping onto her porcelain arms that were crossed against her chest.

Abby stood from her seat and kneeled at Clarke’s side, pulling her into her bosom for comfort. She shushed her daughter’s soft cries and brushed the hair away that was sticking to her wet cheeks. “Sweetie, if you got caught, you’d no longer be able to play soccer and you’d lose your chance at a scholarship. You know that Principal Miller has a strict policy. And after all, your own health isn’t worth sacrificing to prove a point to some low-life high school bullies.”

Clarke nodded as she wiped the tears from her face, seemingly feeling reassured. Abby stood and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I went through the same thing with my parents when I was in school. The rumors stirred when my dad would get arrested after a bar fight or when he’d find himself a new fling—despite still being married to my mom. Look, I get what you’re going through. It’s the struggles of living in a small town like Arkadia.

“The good thing is, as fast as gossips spreads, people move onto something new to talk about within a matter of time. Someone will show up late to church next Sunday and then they’ll be the talk of the town instead. Give it time. You’re strong and you’ll get through this.” Abby felt as though she was talking to herself as those words fell out of her mouth. She needed to hear that just as much as her daughter did.

***

While Clarke was spending the weekend with her friends from soccer, Raven and Lexa, at a sleepover, Abby decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and finally make use of her free time and get back into the gym. She threw her gym bag into her Buick and headed downtown to get in a much-needed workout.

She stepped out of her vehicle with her bag slung haphazardly across one shoulder, adjusting her ponytail before locking the door to her car. Her eyes followed the sound of a familiar throaty laugh but her feet stayed planted onto the pavement. Surely her eyes deceived her. It was Marcus Kane, holding the door open for an older couple walking into the gym as he was heading out. He was wearing a pair of black training shorts and a grey tank top which showed off his toned, sun-kissed arms. She caught herself licking her lips as she eyed him with a lust-filled gaze from behind the hidden comfort of her SUV, her eyes being the only visible part of her peeking over the vehicle. Her eyes grew wide and her heart began to race when she realized he was walking in her direction. She quickly began to busy herself on her phone, pretending to send a message.

“Abby,” he greeted her in surprise.

She looked up from her phone and slipped it back into her gym bag. “Coach,” she said in a laugh, “so we meet again.”

“As I said,” he began with a smile, “call me Marcus.” As she began to protest, he stopped her. “I insist,” he said, his voice remaining soft and calming.

She obliged with a smile. “How was your workout, Marcus?”

“It was great!” He wiped his chiseled, sweaty shoulder with a rag. “Are you heading in?”

“Yeah, my daughter’s at a sleepover for the weekend and I just needed to get out of the house.”

“Cool, I had no idea you worked out here.”

“It’s been a while,” she admitted. “Not since the divorce.”

“Ah. Well, as you know, I’m new in town and I’d love a workout partner. We should work out together sometime.”

Abby stood, stunned, her mouth gaping.

Concern grew on his face and he blushed, an awkward laugh escaping him. “That’s okay, you don’t have to… Only if you want,” he said with a shrug.

“No, no,” she exclaimed, raising her hands up in reassurance. “I’m sorry… Yes, I’d love to work out with you sometime.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and the tension in his shoulders released. “Okay, great,” he said, smiling, obviously pleased with the outcome. “You have my number,” he said with finger guns, immediately slapping his forehead with remorse. “I can’t believe I just finger gunned you. I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna go now. Have a great weekend, Abby.”

“You, too, Marcus,” she smiled, still reeling from their conversation. She dug her cool water bottle from her gym bag and held it to her burning face as soon as he was out of sight. She sighed to herself. Coach Marcus Kane put Greek gods to shame. She felt a tinge of guilt for thinking such things about her daughter’s coach, especially since she was fresh out of a near-two-decade-long marriage. But she was a woman and she had needs and desires and thoughts. A medical professional such as herself should know she was behaving perfectly normal—although the spying from behind her car was maybe a bit much. She’d only hoped nobody was watching the security cameras, making her a laughing stock among the gym’s employees.

She continued to stand outside the gym for a few beats, wishing their conversation didn’t have to come to such a quick end. She wasn’t sure how the town would respond if they were seen working out together, her being newly divorced and all, but if it meant seeing him in his workout attire again, she’d take the chance. She convinced herself it was the neighborly thing to do, him being new to town and all.

***

On Sunday she was still free while Clarke and her friends went to the city for a day of indoor skydiving. By Noon she had grown sick of sitting on the sofa watching television. A telenovela played on the plasma screen, and although Abby couldn’t understand all that was being said, she’d been paying attention with intrigue because someone had just been shot. She had a guilty pleasure for soap operas, no matter the language being spoken. Disappointed, she eventually realized it was an episode she’d already seen and she knew the guy came back to life at the start of the next episode. She flipped through the channels, her eyes glazed over and blurry as she only paid half-attention to the screen. She was _bored_. She looked down at her phone which sat beside of her on the sofa. It laid on the plush cushion, all shiny and tempting. She chewed at her lip. _This is a bad idea_ , she told herself as she picked up her phone. _Absolutely terrible idea_ , she said, scrolling through her messages until she found his name. _Coach Kane_ , there he was. She hadn’t texted him since scheduling their conference, to which she felt rather proud of herself for having such willpower. She began forming a message, typing at the keyboard in her slow but careful manner.

_Hey, so I’m needing some motivation to get off of the couch. Fancy a workout ?_

Ew, fancy? She pressed the backspace button until the screen was clear once more. She sighed. “Let’s try this again,” she said out loud to herself.

_Hi Marcus , it’s Abby._

“Ugh, too dry,” she said. “Start again.”

_Marcus, I’ve been stuck on the couch all morning and looking for some motivation. Do you happen to need a workout partner for today ? -Abby_

She thought maybe signing her name at the end of her message felt a little too formal or old fashioned, like how her mom signs her name at the end of all of her Facebook posts ( _we know it’s you, Mom, your name is right there_ ), but Abby couldn’t remember clearly if he saved her number or not. She sometimes forgot to breathe when she was around him, so remembering any other details besides his glistening smile or bronzed broad shoulders that were etched forever in her memory was nearly impossible.

Five minutes passed with no reply. She could feel the anxiety stir within her. Maybe he was only being friendly—a flippant offer he didn’t think she’d take him up on. Especially so _soon_. Less than twenty-four hours, in fact. Oh, God, will he think she’s desperate? Or worse, trying to hook up with him while she’s going through her messy divorce? Wait, which was worse, desperate or horny? Abby couldn’t decide. Both? Both were worse. She groaned and sank down into the sofa.

A vibration from her sofa cushion shook her from her pity party and she reached instinctively to her right for her phone. When she couldn’t find it in her grasp, she rubbed her arm over the entirety of the sofa, then frantically pulled up the cushion until she found her phone buried along with a few dollars in change and a hair tie.

Once she finally retrieved her phone, she opened the message with shaking hands.

_Abby, hi- give me a half-hour and I’ll meet you at the gym :)_

She jumped up and squeed, twirling around in her living room with her phone still in her hand. He said yes! He sent a smiley face! She’s working out with him! She hummed a happy little tune as her face blushed thinking back to his message. Suddenly, the faint sound of a voice jolted her from her gleeful dance. She followed the sound of the noise to the phone in her hand. The name on the screen said “Coach Kane” and it was an ongoing call.

“Abby?” she heard him say.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath before putting the phone to her ear. “Marcus?” she finally asked. She laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you were on the line. Did you call me?”

“Umm,” he began, sounding confused. “No. You called me.” A nervous chuckle escaped him. “Is everything okay?”

The whites of Abby’s eyes flashed with horror. “Oh… I’m _so_ sorry, I don’t know how I did that. I’m horrible with technology! Yes, yes I’m fine. Aside from being tech-illiterate.”

Marcus laughed and reassured her. “It’s okay. I’m getting ready. I’ll see you soon.” She could hear his smile as he spoke. Joy flooded her heart.

“Can’t wait,” she said before hanging up. She decided that next time it was wise to _not_ dance for joy around her living room with her phone still in her hand. Ugh. Her face blushed with embarrassment even still as she got dressed to see him.

She only changed into five different outfits before deciding on a pair of running shorts and a tank top. It was far too hot outside for yoga pants, despite her urge to wear them anyway only to make an impression on Marcus. She kicked herself mentally. _Stop it, you’re still legally married_ , she told herself. And after her hellish divorce, who knew if she even believed in love again. What the hell, though, a little fun was allowed, wasn’t it? After the year she’d had, a little fun was well-deserved.

***

Marcus was already at the gym, waiting outside when she arrived. He wore similar shorts to the one he had on yesterday, only a slightly different shade, and the tank top had been replaced with a graphic tee (darn). It was rather fitted to his body, though, so Abby wasn’t _too_ disappointed.

He greeted her with a hug and she instinctively looked around to make sure no one was watching before she accepted his embrace. _People talk in small towns. Rumors spread fast_ , she reminded herself.

He led the way and they found their spot in the gym. It was more crowded than usual and Abby hoped nobody that knew her would show up. She needed to think of a story in case anybody _did_ notice them. What would people say if they knew she and Marcus had planned on working out together? Oh, that’s right—she’s being neighborly. That was her story. Her chest swelled up with pride. She was doing her civic duty. Surely she’d earn brownie points with God for being so selfless. Her eyes drifted to his biceps as the pair began their calisthenics warm up. She chewed at her lip, unable to peel her eyes off of his arms. Yes, she was _so_ _very_ selfless.

After their five minute warm up was over, they began their official workout doing lat pulldowns. They sat at their respective cable machines beside of one another and got into position.

“Four sets of 8,” Marcus said.

Abby nodded, but her face was unsure. She’d never used this machine before. Marcus must have noticed because he stood and was soon at her side.

“Grab the bar with an overhand grip,” he began, gently moving her hands into position. She shivered at his touch. “Make sure it’s just beyond shoulder width.” He adjusted her hands farther out across the bar. “Make your arms straight,” he said. “Your torso needs to be upright.” He placed a hand at the small of her back, pushing her into an erect position. He helped her pull her shoulder blades down and back, bringing the bar down to her chest. During her pause, they caught one another’s gaze. “That’s it,” he said in a gentle, patient voice. He smiled proudly at her. “Just like that,” he said as she brought the bar back to its starting position.

He sat back down at his machine and began the workout. His breathing remained steady and she tried to follow suit. It was obvious that such an intense workout had been a while for her. She only did a little cardio yesterday. Marcus was incredibly patient and helpful. He offered her constant praise and positive affirmations in between his breaths and grunts. (The noises caused a fire of passion to burn within Abby. Working out wasn’t the only thing that had been too long for her.) He made a great personal trainer. Despite her growing tired, she pushed through and persevered. She was so focused on her own workout and keeping pace that she barely noticed his strong muscles as he pulled the cables up and down. Too bad.

They casually chatted during their minute break in between sets. Abby told him what she did that morning and about the telenovela episode she’d already seen. He shared that he spent his morning reading a book. She asked him what book, and it turned out they had the same favorite author. During the last few sets, they gushed over the sci-fi book series together with panted breaths and bonded over how they longed for the next chapter of the series to finally be released.

Up next they did a kettlebell swing routine. Abby had frequently used the kettlebell for a workout, but she pleaded ignorance when Marcus asked her if she was familiar with the routine. He nodded, said not to worry about it, and positioned himself behind her, his chest just barely touching her back. She could feel his hot breath on her neck. His hands lingered over her shoulders as he helped her adjust her posture. “Stay straight,” he whispered. “Keep your feet shoulder-length apart.” She did as he said and stood straight, in perfect position for the workout, yet he tarried. She could still feel him breathing on her neck and the rise and fall of his chest which had inched its way a little closer to her back. His heart was hammering in his chest and she was fairly certain it wasn’t from exercise. When she thought she was going to burst from the sexual tension, that’s when he finally picked up a kettlebell and handed it to her. He demonstrated for her the workout using his own kettlebell before placing it on the floor and asking her to ready herself for the routine.

“Bend your knees slightly,” he instructed. “Push your hips backwards and your chest out.” She did just that. “Good,” he said. “Squeeze your glutes as you push your hips,” he reminded, immediately catching himself, his face quickly blushing.

Abby chuckled. “I’m a medical professional, Marcus. We’re both adults, here.”

He nodded, seeming relieved.

They proceeded to do four sets of fifteen with the kettlebell and then refilled their water bottles at a water fountain.

“Not too shabby,” said Marcus, wiping the sweat from his brow before taking another drink.

Abby smiled and looked down at her feet then back up at him. “I have a good trainer.”

They continued their routine with face pulls at the cable machines. Marcus quickly demonstrated to Abby on his own machine as he talked her through each step.

“Grab each side of the rope, step back until your arms are fully extended in front of you. Bend your knees slightly. Be aware of your feet as they should be a little over shoulder-length apart. Brace your core and pull your elbows past your back. Keep pulling until the ropes are slightly past your ears. Hold still and contract your shoulder blades together.

“We’ll do four sets of eight with a minute break in between each set. Ready?”

“Ready,” Abby said, determined. 

She liked that position better; it was easier to watch Marcus as he worked out. She counted along with each pull, admiring the view along the way. She watched the muscles in his biceps and forearms expand then contract. In between sets, they mainly took time to catch their breath and rehydrate. Once between sets, however, a Nickelback song came over the speakers in the gym and the pair found common ground, asking when are people going to finally admit that Nickelback really isn’t _that_ bad. Abby really couldn’t believe how much they have in common.

After the final set, Marcus asked Abby about Clarke and how she was handling things. Abby sighed.

“Well, she’s finally gaining her appetite back from what I can tell. It’s a lot to adjust to… For the both of us. We’re finding a new normal but she’s strong. I think she’s going to be okay.”

He wiped his face with a towel and smiled earnestly. “Just like her mother.” He stepped closer to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Abby could feel her face burn. The corners of her mouth curled up and she caught him staring at her, slowly inching closer. Their eyes met and the intensity of his gaze nearly made her stomach flip. The sheer intimacy of the moment and the threat of her possibly being vulnerable with another person _terrified_ her. Especially so soon after Jake. The stolen stares and flirtatious banter was one thing but letting her guard down to someone new was something she suddenly came to the conclusion that she just wasn’t ready for. She cleared her throat and checked her phone. “I’ve gotta go,” she said suddenly, her voice laced with apology.

Marcus’s forehead creased in concern. His arms fell to his side and he took a step back. “Oh… Okay.”

“Sorry,” she stuttered, searching for an excuse to escape his longing stares. “I have to go pick up Clarke from Lexa’s house.” (That was a lie. Lexa’s mom was supposed to drop Clarke off before dinner.)

“No problem,” he assured her, grinning. “I’ll walk you out.” He grabbed her gym bag and held the door open for her as they stepped outside. A warm summer breeze blew against her face, bringing her to her senses only slightly. So much for doing her civic duty. She was checking out before they could even finish their workout.

He handed her the gym bag after she unlocked her car and she set it down in the passenger’s seat. She stood to face him and he was watching her with his smiling eyes.

“Thanks for dropping what you were doing to come to the gym with me,” she said. “I could pay you for being such a fantastic personal trainer.”

He chuckled. “Anytime. And no payment is necessary. Your company is more than enough compensation.”

She began to blush like a schoolgirl.

“Abby,” he said as he placed both hands on her shoulders, the intensity in his eyes returning, his voice low. “If you ever need anyone… I’m here. Okay?”

The sincerity in his voice was nearly enough to bring her to tears. She merely nodded.

“Can I hug you goodbye?” he asked.

She nodded again and he wasted no time pulling her into him. He rubbed his hands up and down her back as she wrapped her arms around his torso. Words couldn’t describe just how desperately bad she needed a hug. She didn’t even _know_ she needed a hug, particularly that hug, until suddenly tears started flowing down her cheeks, creating salty ponds on his t-shirt. She sniffled.

“Oh, Abby,” Marcus said sadly. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’ll be okay.”

His encouraging words and kind tone only made the tears fall harder. Her body quivered as she sobbed quietly. He shushed her and held her until she willed herself to let go and dry her tears.

“Thank you,” she said as she pulled away, feeling slightly embarrassed over her breakdown.

He bowed his head. “If you ever need me, just give me a call.”

At that she smiled and nodded before getting into her car. He closed the door for her and waved goodbye as she drove off.

That night she received a text. It was from Marcus. She had been lounging on the couch watching a new episode of a reality TV show when she got the notification. She stared at the message, puzzled.

_Abby, I’m very sorry if I crossed any lines today- please tell me if I did_

She tapped her foot as she reread the reply over a dozen times. She readied herself to type several times before stopping, unsure what to say. _She_ wasn’t even sure what happened today. She didn’t know what to feel. So what in the hell was she supposed to tell him?

_Hi Marcus, you were fine . I’m just going through a lot . Sorry …_

She sent it, worrying it might read a little cold, but they’d never texted much so it wasn’t like he knew her normal texting patterns, anyway. He replied immediately.

_That’s good- I was worried… I don’t want to overstep, but I’m finding it difficult not to cross that boundary… Anyway, I’m here if you need anything- goodnight, Abby X_

She squinted, rereading that one line, as if looking at it closely would help it make more sense. _I’m finding it difficult not to cross that boundary_. So he felt the tension, too. She grimaced. He’s Clarke’s _coach_ for God’s sake.

This was getting complicated.

***

It was Monday evening and Abby got off of work just in time to catch Clarke’s game. She was still wearing her scrubs as she sat in the audience to cheer her daughter on. She scanned the crowd, looking for Clarke’s father. Her eyes finally fell on him sitting snugly beside a younger woman, who she assumed was his new girlfriend. She’d heard the rumors, but she tried her best to ignore them. She didn’t want bitterness and resentment to form between them. She wanted to be civil and be good co-parents for Clarke. After all, they were soon to be officially divorced, so the dating pool was fair game. The other part of her, however, wanted to be angry. She wanted to loathe Jake and feed into all of the rumors. Who was he to bring a brand new girlfriend to his daughter’s game, anyway? Clarke would surely notice. Abby only hoped it wouldn’t throw off her mojo.

***

Clarke had once played as forward in her previous years on the team, considering she had the personality of a leader, but after seeing her performance in their early practices, Marcus changed her to midfield. Midfielders had to move the most and Clarke was fast. He worried about her, though. Her performance at the beginning of the year tournament was shabby and she’d been declining in progress at her recent practices. He was tempted to change her out to a defender, but after having a conference with Clarke’s mom, he wanted to give her a shot at midfield. He wringed his hands as the kids ran out to the field and the referee signaled the start of the game.

Her job was to work the midfield and attempt to score goals. Unfortunately, he could tell early on, scoring goals was not on the agenda for Clarke that evening. She was failing constantly. She struggled to hold her position and she overshot her passes. Clarke dribbled the ball and readied herself to shoot her shot before being overpowered by Niylah on the opposing team, Eligius High. Marcus rubbed his forehead and groaned.

Octavia and Clarke clashed on the soccer field. Octavia wanted to hog the ball and Clarke missed Octavia’s scarce passes. Marcus should have known that was going to be an issue. His rookie coaching skills were showing. It was one thing to play on the field but coaching teenage girls proved to be different and certainly more difficult in its own special way. They needed to focus on some team building exercises at their next practices. The rivalry between those two girls was not going to be solve by running laps.

Five minutes remained in the first half and Arkadia was down 0-4. Marcus gritted his teeth. It didn’t look good. They hadn’t scored even a single goal. He heard yelling from the sidelines, one overzealous parent shouting over all of the others. Marcus turned his head and raised his eyes to see a middle aged man with a fair complexion standing up with his hands cupped to his face as he yelled. A young, attractive woman sat beside of him, clapping and shouting along. “You can do it, Clarke,” they shouted. _Clarke_. That must have been her father. His eyes scanned the crowd. He was so nervous he hadn’t even thought to look for Abby. A few rows to the right, closer to the front, was where he finally found her. He watched her glance towards the shouting man’s direction, side eying him with a death glare. Yeah, that was definitely her ex-husband. Marcus looked at Clarke then, who was attempting to make a pass to Lexa before she was too late and the other team intercepted the ball. Clarke halted in the middle of the field and faced her dad. She pulled a face and then her father proceeded to sit down.

At half-time, the kids made their way to the sidelines for a well-earned break. After his pep talk to the entire team, he let the kids rest and rehydrate as he scanned the crowd. He noticed that Abby was standing beside of Jake. She whispered something in his ear before she returned to her seat. Jake wore a frown and didn’t say anything to Abby. Instead he looked ahead at Clarke, then at Marcus. Whatever Abby said caused Jake to suddenly rise from his seat and take his girlfriend by the hand as they left the game.

Marcus directed his attention to Clarke who had watched her father leave, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he was sure he saw her breathe a sigh of relief.

“Clarke?”

“Yeah, Coach?”

He sighed as he searched for the right words. “You’re capable… But you’re struggling out there. Do you need me to sub you out?”

“ _No_ , Coach. I can do it.”

She was headstrong just like her mother. He knew she was tired, he knew she wasn’t playing to the best of her capabilities, but he feared pulling her out of the match would just crush her spirits even further, and she’d already been through enough. He looked at the scoreboard and frowned. 0-5. They’d already lost the game, that much he did know. They were getting dominated by Eligius. He scanned the crowd. Jake was gone now. Maybe Clarke could focus better. Marcus ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He wanted to give her a chance to prove herself without distraction. He nodded. “Okay… But can I offer you some advice?” He continued as she gave him no response. “You need to focus, Clarke. Nothing that’s going on in the crowd matters, okay? Keep your eyes on the ball. And when you don’t have the ball, pay attention to what’s going on in the field, not in the stands. And… don’t worry about being perfect. Just do your best.” He placed an encouraging hand on her shoulder and smiled.

She mirrored his smile. “Thanks, Coach.”

The second half of the game went surprisingly better. Clarke seemed more focused, more attentive to the ball and less on the crowd. She was redeeming herself. Clarke sprinted across the field and dribbled the ball. She lined up her shot but Eligius’s goalie, Luna, dived and blocked the ball. It was a miss, but her energy levels were seemingly higher than the first half of the game. Later, Echo performed an impressive nutmeg and passed the ball to Clarke who scored a goal. Marcus shot up and cheered, pumping his fist into the air as the referee blew his whistle to signal a goal. Behind him he could hear Abby shouting and cheering Clarke on. “That’s my girl!” Abby exclaimed. Clarke beamed up at her mom then lifted Echo up into a hug.

Arkadia lost the match, to no surprise to anyone, but Clarke performed better than he’d seen her do all season and she was able to redeem herself after a miserable first half. For that, he was grateful and left the field feeling nothing but joy and pride for his team, especially the resilient Clarke Griffin. Sure, he had his work cut out for himself, the team needed to step it up and act like a team, but he would focus on that during their next practice. For the night, he chose to be happy.

***

After the game, the team and their parents gathered and mingled at the local pizza parlor where they often frequented following a soccer game. Abby sat in a booth with Clarke as they munched on their pizza and discussed that evening’s game. Abby tried to bring up the issue about Jake at the game but Clarke said she just wanted to enjoy her evening and they would talk about it another time. That response satisfied Abby so she dropped the subject.

They continued to chat for a while until a shadow passed over their booth and Abby looked up to see Coach Marcus Kane smiling at them with his hands in his pockets.

The pair greeted him warmly and his mouth curled up into a fond smile at the sight of them. Abby couldn’t help but notice how his smile extended from his eyes deep into his soul. It made her heart skip a beat. They hadn’t spoken to one another since their workout and text conversation the day before. He seemed his normal self, so at least she didn’t scare him off.

“Great job out there,” he said to Clarke, slapping her on the shoulder.

She smiled. “Thanks, Coach, but we lost…” Her voice trailed off as she scrunched her face.

“We lost, but you scored a goal. Your first goal of the season! It’ll only get better from here. Keep up the good work, Clarke. I believe in you.” He directed his attention to Abby then and said a quick hello. As he started to walk away, Abby called out his name. He turned to face her.

“Join us,” she said, motioning towards the empty space in the booth. “Please.”

His eyes fell to the floor but then he nodded as the corners of his mouth tugged up forming a brief smile before he climbed into the booth. As if on cue, Raven came running over and said a quick hello to Marcus and Abby before tugging on Clarke’s arm to come join her in the arcade. Clarke looked at her mother and asked for some quarters. Abby hastily rummaged through her purse, finding no change. (All of her spare change seemed to hide under the couch cushions at home.) Abby sighed. “I’m sorry, honey, I don’t have any quarters.” All she managed to find was a dime and a Home Depot receipt dated to two years ago when they remodeled their guest bathroom.

“Here, Clarke,” Marcus chimed, digging into his pocket. “I always keep some quarters on me. There you go,” he said, passing Clarke a handful of quarters.

“Thanks, Coach,” Clarke beamed as she raced off to the arcade with Raven.

“Thank you,” Abby said softly, her eyes meeting his.

He brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “No problem.”

She cleared her throat. “Thank you… for yesterday. I had fun working out with you. I’m sorry about my breakdown. I was afraid I scared you off.”

He stared intently at her. “You could never.”

“I’m a _mess_ , Marcus,” she insisted.

“Which gives me all the more reason to be there for you.” He took a sip of his water. “If you’d like,” he added.

“Of course. I appreciate it.” She took a sip of her Coke, her mind darting over what she could change the subject to so she could divert the attention off of herself. “I’m impressed with how you got Clarke back into the game like that. I’d love to know the trick.”

He stared at her quietly for a heartbeat, a smirk forming as fire flooded his cocoa brown eyes. “I’ll gladly teach you all of my tricks.”

Abby nearly choked on the Coke that she was drinking, inhaling it down her windpipe slightly, evoking an involuntary cough. She hit her chest a couple of times as she quickly recovered. Her face was as hot as the sidewalk on a summer day. She didn’t know how to reply to that. Instead, she changed the subject.

“Would you like some pizza?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments/feedback is greatly appreciated! new chapter every Friday :)


	4. Cheers! To A New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Abby battles a week from hell, she and Jake make progress in their co-parenting and Marcus focuses on team building with the Arkadia girl's soccer team.

If there was a Tuesday from Hell, Abby was experiencing it. She slept through her alarm for work, spilled her thermos of coffee all over her scrubs, and then the jackass doctor at the hospital was more of a jackass than usual. To top it all off, she was battling an extreme bout of PMS, to which she tried her best to blame it on somebody, _anybody_ , but ideally Jake Griffin. No matter how she tried to spin it, though, she couldn’t find a way to blame her menstrual cycle on her ex-husband, which somehow made her mood even worse. She felt like a volcano waiting to erupt, smoke puffing from the crate, hot lava bubbling, readying itself to burst. She felt hyperaware of everything. The straps of her sandals rubbed between her toes, something that had never bothered her until today. She regretted changing out of her scrubs as the sandals slapped against the palm of her foot. Making matters worse, she managed to get the cream of the crop when it came to shopping carts. The obnoxious clicking and clacking of the shopping cart’s rear wheel resonated off of the cereal boxes in aisle five. The simple fix would have been to go to the front and grab another cart, but by that time Abby was completely miserable and she chose instead to wallow in said-misery instead of finding a solution. Poor pitiful Abby.

If there was truly a god, he was certainly testing her. As Abby grabbed a box of cereal from aisle five, she overheard voices in aisle four and she was _sure_ they’d just said her name. They were making no effort to be quiet or discreet. Abby slid the boxes of cereal over to quietly peep into the next aisle.

Two old biddies stood in the middle of the aisle with their carts parked to the side, shamelessly gossiping as they blocked the entirety of aisle four. Biddy One said to Biddy Two that “that nurse Abby Griffin” (her name spewed like venom off of Biddy One’s tongue) was spotted having pizza with the new baseball coach. “I heard,” said Biddy Two, clutching her imaginary pearls.

“He coaches _soccer_ , you old hags,” Abby sneered.

Biddy Two continued and said that Hannah Green had seen them just the other day working out together at the gym and he was standing awfully close to her as they lifted their weights. She added that it seemed to be quite the coincidence that Abby’s marriage started to fail as soon as the handsome new coach came to town. Abby wrinkled her nose and lowered her eyebrows. “We’ve been separated for nearly six months,” she whisper-shouted as she balled up her fists. Her marriage started to fail long before Marcus Kane arrived in town.

Biddy One agreed with Biddy Two and said maybe it wasn’t Jake who was the one cheating after all. “I’m certainly team Jake,” said Biddy Two. At that, Abby’s jaw dropped. Was that what this town thought of her? _That_ was the impression she gave? And were they seriously taking sides on such a personal matter? She didn’t even know those people. It took all the willpower she had not to push the cereal boxes completely aside and set those two old biddies straight. Somehow, she gathered up the _sliver_ of humanity that her PMS had left (thanks to some deep breathing exercises), and successfully left the grocery store after paying the bushy-browed cashier who was as happy to be there as she was. She walked with pride, her chest puffed out, feeling accomplished over how she didn’t have to be escorted out by the puny looking security guard who thought he was special just because he carried around a walkie-talkie.

Abby arrived home and began to unload the groceries out of her car. She pulled chips, salsa, avocados, peppers, limes, and margarita mix from her reusable grocery bags. It was margarita night with the girls. Charmaine Diyoza was bringing her daughter Hope over to spend time with Clarke and Callie was bringing the patron.

Callie whipped up her homemade guacamole using a recipe she’d picked up during her time in Mexico while Diyoza poured out the frozen concoction into a glass for each woman. Abby munched on a chip smothered in salsa as she watched Callie mix up the avocados and lime juice.

“So…” Callie began, dragging out the word. Her tone was laced with curiosity and there was a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“So?” Abby asked.

Callie pursed her lips. “Seems somebody’s been spending an awful lot of time with the handsome new soccer coach.”

Abby groaned. “Really? Who told you?”

“The whole town knows, Abby! Which is pretty hurtful that I had to find out from Diana Sydney at the law office instead of my best friend.”

“I’ll drink to that,” chimed Diyoza. She and Callie clinked their glasses together.

“Guys,” Abby said, followed by a sigh. “It’s nothing. My divorce isn’t even final yet. The last thing on my mind is romance.”

“And what does Marcus Kane think about that?” Callie asked with a raised brow.

Abby shrugged. “Marcus doesn’t think of me like that.” _That_ was a damn lie and Abby knew it and based on the looks on her friends’ faces, they knew it, too. His text to her after working out together flooded back in her memory.

“Suit yourself,” said Callie. “But just know that we’re your friends and we love and support you.”

“And hell, you deserve to have some fun. See Marcus if you want to. Don’t let the rumors discourage you from living your life,” Diyoza said.

“I’ll cheers to that,” said Callie.

They drank and ate and chatted about their lives. Callie shared an amusing story about a case she’d just finished and then Diyoza spoke on how difficult it was adjusting to life outside of the military after recently retiring following twenty years of service. She shared how the stay-at-home gig had been tough and she was looking into finding a job since Hope was old enough to stay home by herself. She hated that the majority of the financial stress had been on her husband Paxton since she retired. (Retired military got paid peanuts).

Abby could feel the alcohol coursing through her veins by the time the topic had moved onto Jake. Her head was spinning and her limbs felt like rubber. The alcohol dulled her senses and she’d forgotten about her awful bout with PMS that day. She took a sip of her margarita.

“Jake brought his new girlfriend to Clarke’s soccer game last night,” Abby said, her words slurring slightly. She made a gagging gesture.

“WHAT?” Her two friends said in unison.

Abby nodded and glared at the pair with half-lidded eyes.

“That’s so irresponsible of him,” Callie declared.

“ _So_ irresponsible,” Abby repeated, her words extremely slurred now.

“D’you think that she was the receptionist we heard about?” Diyoza asked.

“ _I_ heard he was seeing a teacher from Mount Weather Elementary,” Callie interjected.

Abby flailed her arms. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.” She spoke a bit too loudly, despite herself. “It’s all water under the bridge. We’re no longer together so whatever or whoever he does in his free time is no longer any of my business. I just want to try to be civil and be the best co-parents to Clarke that we can be.” That was quite the coherent speech she’d just given despite the alcohol in her bloodstream. She smiled proudly at her accomplishment.

“Cheers to that,” Diyoza said. _How many fucking times were they going to cheers tonight?_ Abby mused.

“To a new normal,” Callie said as she smiled towards Abby, and Abby thought she caught her friend winking at her, but her vision was slightly blurry so it was hard to tell. Callie raised her glass with Diyoza’s.

Abby reached for her glass to raise it in a toast with her friends but lost her grip and spilled the remaining margarita all over the granite counter top. “Shit!” Maybe it was time to call it a night.

***

“Watch your grip, Octavia! Loosen it up before you break Clarke’s arm,” Marcus yelled.

After their shooting agility drill warmup at Wednesday’s practice, Marcus decided to have the girls participate in a team building exercise called the circle game. He split the team in half and had the girls form a circle and hold hands. In the circle the team chose which player to protect while another player outside of the circle was given ten seconds to try to tag that designated person. The screams and laughter from the groups indicated that they were having fun, which brought him great joy. If only Octavia would stop playing so rough.

“Good afternoon, Coach,” an unfamiliar voice called from behind Marcus. He turned to see the same fair complexioned man from Monday’s game.

“Good afternoon,” he replied, removing his sunglasses.

“We haven’t met yet, but I’m Jake Griffin, Clarke’s dad.”

Marcus raised his head in recognition. He was right. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Griffin.”

The two men shook hands. Marcus watched Jake peer over his shoulder and raise an eyebrow. Marcus turned to look at what Jake was seeing: a gaggle of rowdy teenage girls spinning around as they tried to protect their teammate from being tagged. “What’re they doing?” Jake asked, nodding towards the team.

“Team building exercise,” Marcus said simply.

Jake drew his attention back to Marcus and frowned. “Team building?” he asked with a scowl. “Shouldn’t they be working on their defense?”

Marcus smiled tightly. “That will come. We’re doing split the defenders later. Our team needs to learn how to be a team first.”

“Fair enough,” Jake said. “Listen, I didn’t come here to distract you from coaching so I won’t be long but… I’m worried about Clarke’s game. She’s really been struggling this season.”

Marcus agreed silently.

“I’d like to schedule a meeting with you, if that’s possible.”

“I think that’d be great. Uh… I hope I’m not overstepping but I feel it’s in Clarke’s best interest if _both_ of her parents can attend the conference, if that’s possible.” Marcus’s heart leapt at the thought of seeing Abby again, even if it was in his office in the presence of her ex-husband.

Jake smiled politely but there was dread in his eyes. “Sure. I’ll talk to Abby. Thank you, Coach.”

The circle game wasn’t a _complete_ failure. Octavia never broke Clarke’s arm and Clarke only cursed Octavia out three times. That was progress if you asked him. There was arguing but for the most part the team had fun and Marcus even caught Clarke and Octavia sharing a few laughs during the game.

Marcus blew his whistle and clapped his hands together as the players gathered around him in the center of the grassy field. He announced they were doing a split the defenders drill and Clarke groaned. He pointedly ignored her expression of disapproval and threw a handful of pinnies at her as he instructed Harper and Lexa to grab some cones for the grid. She passed the pinnies out to her teammates and then slipped the remaining red fluorescent scrimmage vest over her head.

The drill and the following scrimmage at the end of practice left him feeling hopeful, at least. They were far from a perfect team (at times they looked like marbles ricocheting about in a pinball machine) but they were showing him that they were ready and willing to learn and improve and to Marcus, that’s what mattered most.

Practice had just ended and the majority of the kids had already left. Except one. Clarke Griffin. Even Aubrey Adam’s mom was on time for once. Clarke sat quietly on the ground, plucking a strand of grass in between checking her phone. Marcus strolled over to where she was sitting.

“Hey, where’s your mom?” he asked.

Clarke merely shrugged, twirled a strand of grass around in her hand.

“Come on,” he said, offering her his hand. “I’ll give you a ride.”

***

Abby scrambled to get dressed as she noticed the time. She’d slept past Clarke’s soccer practice. This week was not her week. She slipped on a pair of sweatpants and pulled a faded, oversized white t-shirt over her head. It had a small rip in the seam of the right armpit and a stain near the collar but it was the first shirt in her reach. It wasn’t like she was getting out of the car, anyway. She ran her fingers through her messy hair and then pulled it up in a loose ponytail before rushing downstairs and bolting out of the door.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath. She forgot her keys. It was a good thing she’d also forgotten to lock the front door. She sprinted back inside and grabbed the keys, locking the door on her way out. Before climbing into her car, she heard the sounds of tires coming up her driveway. She paused and turned to see a her daughter and… _Marcus Kane_ climbing out of a Dodge Ram. She stepped away from her car and met them near the truck.

She wore a surprised expression laced with embarrassment. She didn’t pick her daughter up from practice _and_ she was in sweatpants and an old t-shirt. She definitely wasn’t expecting Marcus to drop her off. He never did that for the other kids, as far as she knew.

“Hi,” she said to them both, shielding her face with embarrassment. “I’m _so_ sorry, I covered an early shift at the hospital on little sleep so when I came home, I passed out on the couch—”

Marcus raised his hands and chuckled. “Slow down. It’s okay.”

“Mom had a late one at margarita night last night,” Clarke chimed, making a drinking gesture with her hands.

Abby gave her daughter a look that said “Say another word and you’re grounded for life.”

At that, Clarke bolted to the front door and unlocked it with her key. “Thanks for the ride, Coach,” she called just before she shut the door to the house.

Marcus tutted. “You’re turning into Aubrey Adam’s mom.” Abby laughed, knowingly. She’d went to high school with Aubrey Adam’s mom, Sarah. She was late for class as often as she’s late picking her daughter up for soccer practice.

“Thanks for bringing Clarke home.”

“It’s no big deal.” His eyes scanned the sidewalk. He sucked air through his teeth as they shared an awkwardly silent moment. “I saw Jake today,” he finally said. “He wants a conference. I said it’s in Clarke’s best interest if both of her parents attended and he agreed. Are you up for that?”

Abby’s heart filled with trepidation but she found herself nodding in agreement. “It’s what’s best for Clarke.”

“I’m free tomorrow,” Marcus said suddenly. She couldn’t help but smile at his eagerness. He smacked his forehead. “I sounded a little too excited there,” he said, chuckling. His cheeks flushed pink.

She smiled at him. “I’ll get with Jake and text you when we can agree on a time. Hopefully that won’t take _too_ long,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Perfect,” he said, placing his hands in his pockets. “Um… I actually don’t live too far from here. If you ever need anything, just give me a call. You don’t _always_ have to pretend it’s an accident when you call me,” he teased, nudging her on the arm.

Abby’s mouth fell open as she eyed him with playful shock. “That was truly an accident! Don’t underestimate my technology struggles.”

“Sure okay,” he said, smirking. He turned on his heel and strutted back to his truck. “It was a good excuse, I’ll give you that.”

“Not an excuse,” Abby called.

“If you need anything,” Marcus began, finishing his sentence by making a phone signal with his hands and putting it up to his ear. “Call me.” His smile flashed white as he shut the door to his truck and backed out of the drive.

***

Abby and Jake finally came to an agreement on a conference time of 4:30 on Thursday. That meant both parties would have to leave work early but they didn’t want to keep Marcus at the school past five o’clock.

Abby put her car in park just as Jake stepped out of his Mercedes. He noticed her, offered her a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite reach his aquamarine eyes, and waited courteously for her at the base of the steps that led to the high school. Her face mirrored his and she then walked right past him to head into the building.

They walked in silence down the hallway. She just didn’t know how to talk to Jake anymore. The contrived small talk, the studied formality of their interactions. They constantly walked on eggshells around one another out of fear of harming the other’s fragile feelings and frankly it was exhausting. Abby was never the type to mince words, but this week more than most she’d been finding it difficult to be civil.

They stopped outside of Marcus’s classroom door and she turned her head to look up at her ex-husband. Her nostrils flared and she tried to do a deep breathing exercise. She was not looking forward to this meeting.

But then her eyes fell upon Marcus Kane who opened the door and greeted them each with a handshake. Of course his handshake lasted a moment or two longer when his hand was in her grasp and she tingled at his touch. Then when he said her name low and soft in salutation, his hand still clamped onto hers, he wore a boyish grin and oh God she could feel the heat creeping up her neck. Despite herself, she began to blush like a schoolgirl. She prayed that her ex-husband wouldn’t notice.

“Hi Marcus—” she caught herself and coughed, then corrected. Her expression hardened. “Coach Kane. How are you?”

“I’m very well. And how are you folks, today?” Marcus asked as he led them into the classroom and gestured to two available seats for Abby and Jake.

Abby and Jake both said they were fine but their nerves were ever prevalent in their voices. Marcus held his chin high and held eye contact with the both of them. His composure said “I’ve got this,” and Abby couldn’t help but laugh to herself. Yeah, he’s got it all under control, like a rabid dog yanking on its chain.

Marcus began with the basics, how Clarke’s performances had been dwindling and she seemed distracted. Abby felt it was important to note that Clarke did much better at her last game in the second-half which just so happened was right after Jake and his “friend” left the field.

“What are you implying?” Jake asked incredulously.

“I’m just saying that it was irresponsible of you bringing your… _friend_ … to Clarke’s game. She was obviously distracted!”

Jake scoffed. “First of all, Becca is my girlfriend. And second, Clarke’s probably distracted over a boy or something.” He was making light of the situation. Abby tutted.

 _Deep breaths_. “Yes, but the boy she’s distracted by is a 6’3” middle-aged man,” Abby said tiredly. “Has Clarke and… this _Becca_ ever met? It’s the first I’ve heard of her.”

“Stop saying her name like that. And no, I was going to introduce you all after the game.”

Abby rolled her eyes. Great. She didn’t know how to feel about another woman coming into their lives. She secretly and selfishly hoped Clarke wouldn’t like _Becca_. The thought of Clarke replacing Abby with a younger, cooler “new mom” was unbearable. She was probably a YouTuber or an Instagram influencer. Abby laughed sardonically to herself. What the hell even was an “influencer”?

“I’ll just have to introduce her to you all another time since you ran me off.” In hindsight, it was clear that Jake was hurt, but Abby was too upset in the moment to care. Instead, she averted her eyes and practiced yet another deep breathing technique before proceeding.

“I didn’t run you off, Jake,” she said, finally, through gritted teeth. The deep breathing was working like shit. “I just made a suggestion. And it worked! Clarke scored a goal in the second half.”

“Wish I could have been there to see it.” His expression was inscrutable.

“Hmm. By the way, Becca looks a bit young for you,” Abby said, thoughtlessly, pettily. 

“Are you _jealous_?” asked Jake, donning a wry smile.

Abby blinked furiously, her mouth gaped. She was completely appalled. She had hoped that wasn’t what all this was about, some kind of show to stir jealousy. “Are you _serious_? Jake, your business is your business, I couldn’t care less,” she said honestly. “I’m just saying that it was poor timing. That’s. All.”

“She’s actually not that much younger than you, you know.” Jake shrugged, ignoring her last comment.

Feeling annoyed, Abby chose to play the petty game, too. “I’ve suddenly lost interest,” she said with a satirical grin.

Marcus cleared his throat then and steepled his fingers. He smiled politely as they remembered his presence and turned to face him.

“If I may interject,” Marcus began, carefully, his arms outreached like he was calming two rabid dogs. “The conversation has lost its productivity, so…” His voice trailed off. He obviously had little experience at refereeing divorced parents in a parent-teacher conference. Which made sense, most people in Arkadia stayed married whether they wanted to or not. Those that did get divorced typically moved away to escape the small town chatter.

“You’re right,” Jake said, forcing a smile. “Sorry about that, Coach.” He cleared his throat. “Look, Abby. I see your point. I was just an excited dad, wanting to show off my kid at her soccer game. I’m sorry.”

His eyes which were just moments earlier an icy stare melted and turned warm and apologetic. She always found it difficult to stay mad at him. Becoming mad at Jake Griffin was so easy, especially recently, but staying mad was always the challenge for Abby. She wasn’t one to hold grudges (although she never forgets).

Abby nodded in acceptance and smiled stiffly. Marcus guided the conversation along brilliantly and by the end of the meeting Abby was feeling rather impressed with him. He truly managed to keep the rabid dog on the chain before things got too haywire.

Marcus suggested that Abby and Jake take turns on attending Clarke’s games to which they agreed upon. Their hopes were that maybe Clarke not having both of her feuding parents at her games (until things settle) would cause less distraction for her. Marcus also gently suggested that Jake not bring any dates along to the games, at least until everybody eased into their new normal. Jake agreed to fly solo and offered an apology once again, admitting to his oversight. Marcus said they would keep an eye on Clarke’s grades, but if she continued declining she could end up on academic probation. All three adults agreed Clarke could do better and probably only needed some time adjusting.

Abby arrived home feeling triumphant. They were making progress, she and Jake. Agonizingly slow progress, but progress nonetheless. Co-parenting after a divorce was like a blister that needed to heal and harden over time. It would get there, but it was a process. And she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of joy as she saw how well Marcus handled the meeting. He was like Benvolio in _Romeo and Juliet_. Being the peacemaker was a talent for him. The peaceful and calming aura he generated as he talked slowly and gently to both of them was nothing short of amazing. He somehow made it work. She couldn’t help but feel her feelings grow stronger for him. She shook her head, trying to remove the thoughts from her mind. _He’s Clarke’s coach_ , she reminded herself. But God was he gorgeous.


	5. Come All Who Are Thirsty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> water, whiskey, tequila: this chapter is WET

Abby’s Tuesday from hell turned into a week from hell and just as things started to seemingly slow down and her PMS dwindled away, she stepped into the kitchen for her Sunday morning coffee only to find herself ankle deep in cold water. She stomped her foot, causing water to splash up her shorts. Gasping at the shock of the cold, she slammed her fists on the kitchen island before going into solution mode. First, she waded her way to the mud room and grabbed a handful of towels. It wasn’t enough to soak up all of the water, but it was better than before. She kneeled down and opened the cabinet under the sink, only to be sprayed with angry, gushing water. She squealed and quickly closed the cabinet back. She rushed to the mud room for another towel. She courageously opened the cabinet once more and blocked the water with the towel before wrapping it around the leaking pipe.

Plumber, she needed to call a plumber. She pulled her phone from the pocket of her sweatpants and Googled plumbers in her area. Arkadia was a small town so that didn’t leave her with many options, especially it being an urgent situation. She called all three plumbers in town and they were all booked up. Her usual plumber (who was the most qualified and experienced) was working on running pipes in the new bed and breakfast/spa that Nia Azgeda was opening up. She hung her head and rested it against the cold granite counter top. Suddenly, she had a realization. At that, she picked up her phone and called her last resort.

“Hey, it’s Abby. I’m so sorry to bother you. I can’t believe I’m calling you like this but my kitchen sink is leaking. I’ve tried everyone and I just can’t seem to find a plumber— No, yes, I did know to do that. Yes, thank you. I’d be grateful.”

She breathed a sigh of relief as she hung up the phone. She rubbed her head, took a breath. She rushed to the basement and shut off the water from the main shut off valve. After that, she headed back upstairs and changed into some dry clothes before her guest arrived to save the day. In no time, she heard her doorbell ring.

“Thanks for coming,” she said with a smile as she opened the door, although she felt a bit insecure.

“No problem,” said Marcus Kane, holding a tool box.

She led him to the kitchen. “I shut off the water but it’s still a bit of a mess. Are you ready?”

Marcus sighed. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

He bent down and Abby followed suit. He opened the cabinet and peeled the soaking towel off of the pipe.

“It was coming from over here,” Abby pointed. “It was spraying in this direction,” she waved her arms aimlessly, desperately trying to help but at the same time at a complete loss.

Marcus smirked. “That way?” he asked, pointing. “You’re saying it went that way?” He was holding back his laughter and failing miserably.

“I’m trying to be specific.” Abby’s face gave nothing away.

“And I appreciate that,” Marcus said, openly laughing now.

Abby crossed her arms, not appreciating his amusement at her expense but she did appreciate his smile. “I’m just trying to help, you know. I don’t want you to get hit in the face with a bunch of water.”

“Thank you,” Marcus grinned, leaning towards the pipe with a wrench.

As he began to loosen (or tighten? Abby wasn’t sure) the pipe, like Old Faithful, the pipe gushed water in Marcus’s face and all over his shirt. He reacted, hitting his head on the counter top and falling back with a timid groan, then erupting with laughter. Abby rushed to his side, rested a hand on his chest as he sat back up.

“Are you okay?” Abby asked, chuckling mildly.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he rasped. He placed his damp hand over hers and she could feel the electricity from his touch. His hand didn’t linger, but the sensation did. He smiled at her and they held one another’s gaze as if nothing else mattered in the world except being there with one another in that moment. That beautiful moment was broken, however, like shattered glass, when they both realized the pipe was still bursting with water. ( _Didn’t I turn the water off?_ ) She quickly pulled herself away and he cleared his throat then braved his way back to the leaking pipe.

“Your connectors are loose,” he called.

“Oh,” Abby said, sadly.

“No, it’s a good thing. Easy fix,” he assured her.

“Okay,” Abby said. “Here, let me get this stuff out of here for you.”

She removed the sanitizing wipes and kitchen towels and other miscellaneous items she had stored under the sink, which was a lot more stuff than she’d realized.

“That should do it,” Marcus mumbled, toying with his wrench against the pipe.

As she poked her head in the cabinet to reach into the back for a bottle of dish washing liquid, she felt ice cold water spray her face and chest. She gasped. “That’s not it!”

He tightened the sink to temporarily stop the leaking and placed the wrench down. “Woo. Okay, I need the heavy artillery.” He outstretched his hand for Abby to give him the larger wrench from his toolbox. As she handed it to him, she couldn’t help but stare at his dark, dripping hair that fell down his forehead. As if he’d read her mind, he pushed his hair back with a swift flick of his free hand and then focused on the pipe. With a few movements of the wrench, he said confidently “ _That_ should do it.”

“Or so you say,” Abby teased.

Marcus chortled. “How many towels do you have left?”

“Not nearly enough,” Abby said, laughing.

Marcus pushed himself out of the cabinet and to his feet. His hair was a wet mess and his drenched t-shirt clung to his toned chest and biceps. Abby offered him a towel and he dried his hair and arms.

“Thank you so much. This is something normally Jake would take care of. I tried calling a plumber but everybody was booked.” Abby patted her makeup-free face dry with a towel.

“It’s really no big deal.”

“It was to me.”

Whether it was what she said or how she said it, Marcus fell silent. His smile faded and he grew serious. She finally realized he had the same intense look in his eyes as he did at the gym. His eyes darted from her lips to her eyes. He was likely trying to be subtle, or not meaning to at all, but she certainly caught him glancing down at her breasts a time or two, as well. Her thin t-shirt was soaking wet and her push-up bra was clearly visible. Marcus was a complete gentleman, of course, but he _was_ human (although, sometimes she had to wonder, considering how perfect he was). He inched closer and closer to her, never peeling his eyes off of her. They were so close that their chests touched. He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“Thanks for the towel.” He held the damp towel up and then handed it to her.

She accepted the proffered towel, drew a shuddered breath, and then laughed. “You’re welcome.” Feeling flushed, she cleared her throat and gathered the towels to place in a laundry basket in the mud room. “Would you like a drink?” she asked once she returned moments later. “Or you could stay for dinner. Clarke should be home soon.” He opened his mouth, hesitated. “It’ll be something simple,” she clarified.

“I love simple,” he said, resigning his uncertainty. “If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course not. It’s the least I can do. I’ll set you a plate.”

Abby stepped around him to reach for a plate in an overhead cabinet but she stepped in just the right place where the plethora of towels hadn’t soaked up the moisture on the floor and she lost her footing. She braced herself, expecting to hit the hardwood floor but instead she felt two strong, damp arms grab her just in time.

He didn’t let go. She slipped, he caught her, and yet after she regained her footing, she was still standing firmly in his grasp. She looked up at him, his dark eyes burning with passion. They slowly drew closer until—

“Mom?”

Abby turned her head with a jolt, instinctively stepping away from Marcus to widen the gap between the man who was just holding her with such passion—a desire she’d never felt with anyone before. “Clarke. Hi.”

“ _Coach_? Mom, you’re wet.”

Abby turned crimson at the double entendre and laughed nervously. “Um, yeah. The sink burst and I called Coach Kane to fix it.”

“You what?” Clarke asked.

“I’m gonna take a rain check on dinner. You guys have a good night,” Marcus said, already halfway out the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Abby said to his back.

She returned her attention to her visibly distraught teenage daughter. “Be careful, the floors are slippery,” Abby said casually.

Clarke’s upper lip curled in contempt. “Really, Mom? Of all people you could call?”

Abby threw her hands up, raising her voice. She loved her daughter but she was growing quickly upset with her sense of entitlement. “Of all people? I tried three different plumbers, Clarke, and they were all booked up. So tell me, who could I have called? Your father? Oh, no, that’s right, he’s busy philandering about in town.” She regretted it as soon as she said it. She said it out of anger, not fact. Whether what she said was true or not, she never badmouthed Jake around Clarke before.

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “That’s not fair and you know it.”

Abby lowered her voice, her shoulders slumping. “I know. But you’re not being fair, either. Coach Kane lives nearby. I called a friend in my time of need. What’s so wrong with that? Can I not have friends?”

“He’s my _coach_ , Mom,” the teenager said with a predictable roll of her eyes.

“It’s a _small town_ , Clarke,” Abby said, mimicking her daughter’s tone.

“Friends don’t act like that,” Clarke retorted.

“I _slipped_ , he caught me. Like I said, be careful.”

Clarke scoffed. “Just please… Anyone but him.”

Abby’s heart sank. She stared at her daughter and then settled her eyes on the towels surrounding their feet. She sighed. “Just be grateful that our sink is fixed. Go upstairs and work on your homework. I have some cleaning up to do.”

***

Marcus closed the front door to Abby’s home, dripping wet. He opened the door to his truck and found a crumpled up t-shirt in the passenger seat left over from a gym session earlier in the week. He quickly surveyed the neighborhood and when he thought the coast was clear, he tugged the damp shirt off and over his head to replace it with the nice, warm, dry shirt. As he was in the middle of putting the dry shirt on, a lady walking her Golden Retriever stopped and stared. He thought he saw her bite her bottom lip. He chuckled nervously and raised his hand in a shy wave, his face tinting with insecurity. He had never felt confident in himself. He never understood the attention that he got from ladies and he supposed he never would understand. He was grateful, but confused, nonetheless.

The lady walking her dog strolled on past, occasionally taking quick glances to look back at him. Someone in a minivan drove slowly by, her eyes peering above her Gucci sunglasses. “What is up with the people in this town?” he mused.

As he started up his truck, he felt the vibration from his phone in his pocket. His best friend Tor’s name lit up on his screen.

_It’s been a day. I need a drink. Meet me at Barney’s?_

Marcus smiled and nodded to himself.

_Dude- same! see you in 10._

***

“Two Jack and Cokes, please.” Marcus drummed his fingers on the bar, his eyes occasionally darting up to view the UFC match playing on the flat screen TV.

“Sorry, I’m late,” said Tor from behind Marcus. “Ran into some friends along the way.”

Marcus stood to see Charles Pike and Indra Woods on each side of Tor. He shook Tor’s hand and slapped his shoulder. “Got your usual waiting for you at the bar,” he said, motioning towards the Jack and Coke. He directed his attention to Indra and hugged her. “How are you, my friend?” he asked.

“I’m well, thank you. We just thought we’d stop by to say hello.”

Marcus greeted Pike with a handshake as Indra spoke. Pike taught Earth science and AP environmental science at Arkadia High and was hallmates with Marcus. They’d always gotten along well.

“Join us, please,” Marcus offered.

“Another time,” Indra said with a smile. “I’ve got to kick this guy’s ass in a game of pool.” She nudged Pike in the ribs with her elbow.

Pike and Indra headed towards the pool hall corner of the bar and Marcus and Tor settled into their bar stools. Tor was already on his second Jack and Coke.

“Rough day?” Marcus asked with an arched brow.

Tor exhaled and rubbed his forehead. “Yeah. Reese had another doctor’s appointment today. Her eyesight is getting worse.”

Marcus frowned and shook his head. “Tor, man, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks bro. What’s new with you?”

Marcus sucked his teeth. “It was a weird day.”

“Like, two-headed mutated deer weird or like, not everybody likes country music weird?”

Marcus laughed, then hesitated. “More like, I saw the mom today weird.”

“Hmm. Didn’t I tell you it was a bad idea?”

“Yeah.”

“I _know_ I told you it was a bad idea. Even Kara told you it’s a bad idea!”

“I know, I know. Especially since she’s… the mom of a player on my team.”

Tor fell silent. His eyes roamed the ceiling in thought. “Sarah Adams?”

Marcus shook his head.

Tor gave it some more thought. “No… Don’t tell me. Abby Griffin?”

Marcus bit his lip in stubborn silence.

“The mom is Abby Griffin?!” Tor whisper-shouted.

“Yeah, I know you guys don’t approve but—”

Tor interrupted him with a scoff. “Oh, no, it’s perfect. We should double date sometime,” he said facetiously.

Marcus absentmindedly fingered his beard with a calloused hand then pushed away a curl at his temple. His mind was heavy with thoughts of Abby and what to do.

“What’s up?” Tor asked.

“It’s just that I know what she’s going through. I’ve been through it. Divorce sucks. I don’t want to push her, but I can’t just walk away.”

“It’s the age-old pull between the heart and the head, my friend. You should respect the lady and give her space if she asks. But…”

“But?”

Tor smirked. “There’s nothing wrong with being friendly.”

“Cheers to that,” Marcus said with a smile glinting white.

***

Another week, another Margarita Night. Abby was loving how often they were all able to get together lately. She’d needed it, and she trusted that they knew that. She was grateful her sink was fixed just in time.

Her mind wandered as the laughs and murmurs of her friends making inappropriate jokes was dulled by the purring of the blender. She couldn’t stop thinking about Marcus and the moment they shared in her kitchen. They’d been sharing a lot of moments as of late. She could still feel his sturdy arms around her waist, her hand against his chest, his breath hot on her neck. The connection she shared with him was unlike anything she’d ever felt before and as she remembered his longing glances and, most importantly, his text to her, she believed he felt the same way. “ _I don’t want to overstep, but I’m finding it difficult not to cross that boundary_ …” That text had her mind reeling ever since the day they worked out together. But then the pang of guilt hit her as she remembered with a start her daughter’s words. “Anyone but him,” Clarke had practically begged her. What was she going to do?

“Abby?” Callie’s voice shook Abby from her thoughts.

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

Abby willed herself to smile. “Yeah.”

Callie’s face mirrored hers with a smile, though she eyed her friend dubiously. She handed her a glass that Diyoza had already filled with their usual frozen alcoholic mix. Abby accepted the glass and held it up to cheers to another fun night.

Diyoza sipped on her margarita and then let out an exhalation of pleasure. “Well I heard through the grapevine that Marcus Kane took his shirt off in your driveway today.”

“I heard he practically performed a Magic Mike routine right in the middle of the street,” added Callie.

Abby scoffed. “That’s ridiculous! Where did you hear this stuff?”

“Trader Joe’s.”

“The nail salon.”

People could say what they wanted to about Abby’s best friends but one thing was for certain: they never strayed from sharing exactly what they thought. And that’s exactly why Abby was friends with them.

“You’ve been holding out on us, Abby! You only told us that you called Marcus to fix your sink,” said Callie.

“Because that’s all that happened! He got wet from fixing my sink.”

“Did you get wet watching him fix your sink?” Diyoza asked with shiny eyes and a mischievous grin. Callie guffawed and high-fived Diyoza.

Color rose in Abby’s cheeks and big blocky words filled her mouth. She wriggled in the bar stool uneasily, attempting to formulate a coherent sentence.

“That’s a yes,” Callie giggled.

“So Marcus Kane undressed in your driveway…” Diyoza began.

Abby raised a brow. “I guess. I was busy talking to Clarke so I didn’t notice.”

“You and I both know that if you weren’t talking to Clarke that you’d be peering out the window.”

Abby chewed on her lip in attempts to hold back her smile. Diyoza was certainly right, as much as Abby wanted to delude herself that she wouldn’t do such a thing. Her mind reeled back to the time she hid behind her car to stare at Marcus leaving the gym and oh, God, she could feel her face flushing with embarrassment as she remembered that encounter.

“What were you talking to Clarke about?” Callie asked idly.

Abby averted her eyes and hesitated. She wasn’t sure she wanted to share what happened, even with her best friends. She’d decided on half-truths for now. “Clarke walked in on me and Marcus after he fixed my sink today.”

“Oh,” said the duo in unison.

“I guess it was a shock for her to find her soccer coach in her kitchen. I explained to her that all the plumbers were booked up—”

“Fucking Nia,” Diyoza grumbled.

“She’s got every electrician in the county working for her, too,” Callie added.

Abby continued. “Clarke told me she’d rather me spend time with anyone but Marcus.”

“How do you feel about that?” asked Callie.

“I don’t know what to feel. I don’t want to invalidate my daughter’s feelings or traumatize and humiliate her but at the end of the day, I’m not just a mom, I’m a woman with needs and emotions. Marcus is… a _great_ guy. I don’t know if it will lead to something down the road or not but I enjoy his company. It’s just so conflicting.”

“She’s a teenager, Abby. They can be so damn dramatic. I say live your life how you want to live it,” said Diyoza.

“Clarke can have a flair for the dramatic but that shouldn’t minimize her experience in this process. She’s already had a hard time as it is. But you’ve had a hard time, too and you deserve to be happy. Just be careful and considerate and maybe Clarke will come around.” Callie smiled warmly and pulled Abby into a hug, Diyoza joining soon after. “We love you, Abs,” Callie said, caressing Abby’s face.

She loved them, too.

After the girls went home, Abby showered, then piled on the sofa and scrolled through Netflix. She’d start a movie and then change to something else less than ten minutes in. She hated when she’d get in those moods. She was bored but it was too early for bed. As if by divine intervention, she felt her phone buzz in her lap. It was Marcus. She put on her reading glasses to read his text.

_Hey. How’s Clarke?_

_Silent. She had dinner in her room. I let her. I can’t stand watching her sulk._

_I’m so sorry, Abby- I feel this is my fault._

_No, Marcus, don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. On the contrary, actually- you did a good deed today. Clarke should have been thankful. She’s just a moody teenager. She’ll get over it._

_Are you okay?_

Abby stared blankly at her screen. Ever since the divorce, she’d been having a difficult time answering that question. It was so simple—three little words, yet she could never find the right answer. She bit her lip in thought. Before she had time to type a reply, Marcus’s name popped up on her screen. He was calling her. With bated breath, she swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” She could hear him smiling on the line. “I called you on purpose, by the way.”

Abby snorted. “You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

His chuckle soon turned into a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I bailed on dinner today. My fight or flight response kicked in when Clarke showed up. I feel like an ass.”

“It’s okay,” Abby said reassuringly. “She and I needed that time to talk. I think mainly she was just shocked. She’ll come around.”

“I hope so.”

“Hope is everything.”

A pregnant pause. “I have to get back to grading papers,” he said with a yawn. “If I can stay awake.”

“It was nice hearing from you.”

“Likewise. If you need anything else, just give me a call. I mean it.”

As he hung up she felt a surge of happiness and her heart leapt with joy. Those last words rang in her mind. He’d said it so earnestly. He was perhaps the nicest man she’d ever met. He meant it, and she knew he meant it. He was the type of person who she could call day or night and he’d be there. She felt something bloom inside of her but she pushed it away. No. She refused. It was too soon for those feelings.


	6. Just Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumors begin to spread more around Arkadia

“Did you enjoy your night, Mr. Kane?” a familiar voice asked, calling out.

Marcus turned to see his friend Indra Woods crossing the street from the parking lot. Humor danced in her dark eyes as her mouth turned upwards.

He furrowed his brow. She’d seen him sitting on the bar stool watching the UFC matches. He’d wondered if she was referring to his favorite fighter winning the world championship.

“Pardon?” he asked, seeking clarity before making a fool of himself.

“I heard from Aurora Blake who heard from Diana Sydney that you and Abby Griffin spent the night together. Is that why you left the bar early last night?” she asked with a raise of her brow.

Marcus’s eyes scanned her face, waiting for a punchline. They walked up the stairs together that led to the entrance of Arkadia High. He stopped and turned to look at her. “That’s not true.”

Indra merely shrugged. “You know how rumors can be,” she said, stepping into her office with a plaque that read VICE PRINCIPAL WOODS.

After a day of teaching on the effects of using opiates and grading term papers during his planning period, Marcus was ready for a day out on the field. The sun was shining down warmly as the kids scurried about the grassy area, finishing up a three goal drill. Marcus blew his whistle and teenaged girls with grass stained shorts, bruised knees, and scraped elbows bolted toward him. The kids slipped out of their pinnies and gathered the cones before grouping up in a circle.

“I have an announcement to make,” he said to the team. “After some great contemplation and observation, I’ve finally decided to make Miss Clarke Griffin team captain.”

A gasp from a helicopter parent was overheard from the sidelines. Marcus didn’t even bother to turn his head to see who it was.

“Really?” Octavia Blake asked with disbelief, her face contorted.

Clarke stood in stunned silence.

“Really,” Marcus confirmed. “Okay,” he said with a clap of his hands, making a declaration their meeting was adjourned. “That’s all. Great job today, ladies. At this rate, we’ll kick some Grounders butt tomorrow!” Most of the team had already begun to disperse before Marcus had even finished speaking, all too similar to his class getting up as soon as the bell rang, despite being in the middle of wrapping up an important lesson on nutrition and exercise.

“Coach?” Clarke Griffin meekly called for him as he was organizing the pinnies. He set them down at his feet and filled in the gap between them.

“Yes, Clarke?”

The teen averted her eyes and kicked the ground. A slow lick of her chapped lips, she finally looked up at him with pensive blue eyes. “Did you make me captain because you’re friends with my mom?”

Marcus shook his head, responding immediately. “Of course not. It’s because you’ve proved yourself, Clarke. Your grades are back on the rise, you’ve performed exceedingly well in the past couple games, and you’re proving to be a strong team leader. I’m proud to have you be the face of this team. As long as you continue at the rate you’re going, I’ll always want you to represent us.” He placed a strong hand on her shoulder and peered at her from under his brows. “I’m proud of you.”

***

Abby had Tuesday evening free as it was Jake’s turn to attend Clarke’s game. Their alternating schedule had been working out so far and Jake kept his promise to attend her games solo for the time being. Abby took advantage of her time alone to catch up on some much-needed housework after her shift at the hospital.

On Jake’s days, he and Clarke always go out to dinner after a game so Abby ordered Chinese take-out and enjoyed her night off from cooking dinner. She scooped up a heaping size of fried rice with her chop sticks and kicked her feet back on the ottoman as she watched reruns to some _Real Housewives_ variation.

Clarke came storming into the house like a bat out of hell at half-past nine.

“My coach? Really, Mom?” Clarke’s voice boomed as soon as the front door slammed behind her, causing Abby to jolt out of her seat.

Abby stood and met her daughter halfway, smoothed out the lines in her pajama pants as she gathered herself. “First of all, fix your tone. Second, could you please elaborate?”

“You know, it’s hard enough dealing with the rumors and jokes at school about Dad being a cheater—which I find hard to believe—but having to deal with that on top of listening to kids make jokes about my mom screwing my soccer coach? It’s unbearable!”

It felt as though Abby had just been slapped in the face. She stammered, her jaw slacked. “Excuse me? I’m _what_? Where did you hear this?”

“Octavia… She and a few kids after the game were huddled around and I heard them talking about it… Soon the whole school will know!”

“Clarke,” Abby began, exasperated, yet still feeling for what her daughter was going through, “I understand this is upsetting but I find it difficult to believe that the whole school will be interested in a middle-aged woman’s sex life.”

“Ugh. That’s disgusting. But it makes sense why Coach made me team captain.”

“He made you captain?” All the anger and nerves were put aside and she bloomed with pride for Clarke who had come so far since the start of the school year.

“Yeah but only because you’re sleeping with him.”

“I am not—” Abby caught her voice rising and she lowered it. De-escalation, Abby. You needed to deescalate the situation at hand. “Do you honestly believe I’d do something like date your coach without talking to you first?”

Clarke sighed. “I don’t know. Look, Mom. If you want to date, ew, that’s fine, but date anybody but my coach.”

Abby grabbed her daughter by her shoulders and then brushed a strand of blonde locks from her temple. “Baby, we are just friends. I assure you. And if that changes, you will be the first to know. Not Octavia Blake,” Abby said with an eye roll.

The corners of Clarke’s mouth turned up and Abby brushed a thumb over her beauty mark before pulling her into a hug. “Thanks, Mom,” said Clarke, the tension in her shoulders releasing with her mother’s embrace.

That night, Abby tossed and turned, her mind racing. She checked the clock every time she turned on her right side, and the time before she needed to be up for work was growing closer and closer. Her heart was heavy. She felt guilty, but also sad. She liked Marcus and if she was honest with herself, she would even say she had a crush on him. (Crush felt so elementary school but then again he turned her into a blushing schoolgirl with his smile and wavy hair). But the flirting had to stop. Her daughter was in distress, and her daughter’s well-being was far more important than a fling. She was still married, for God’s sake. They could be friends, but that was it, she’d decided.

***

It was a little after eleven AM when Abby got the call. She’d been able to calm her shaking hands and the ringing in her ears just enough as she opened the door to Marcus Kane’s classroom.

He stood in front of the SMART board as he spoke on genital herpes prevention to a snickering Freshman class. His voice fell to a whisper once he saw her poke her head into the classroom and his cheeks flushed pink. He quickly dimmed the display on the board and cleared his throat. If it hadn’t been a more serious matter, she would have laughed at his embarrassment.

“Miss… Griffin… Hi.”

“Hi Coach. I, uh, need Hope McCreary. She’s being checked out.” Abby forced herself to smile at Hope to comfort her as the teen stood from her seat, her brow furrowed.

Marcus nodded and said no more as Abby rushed Hope out of the classroom.

“What’s going on?” Hope said, worry riddled in her voice.

Abby gulped. “Your dad’s in the hospital. He had an accident at work. Your mom’s with him.”

“Oh my God.”

The ride to the hospital was silent save for Abby cursing under her breath at the incompetent drivers on the highway. She dropped Hope off and gotten an update on Paxton; he’d had a seizure but they needed to run more tests to find the sudden onset as he’d never been one to have seizures before. Abby hugged Diyoza and told her friend to text her with any updates. Abby then made her way back to the school to get Hope’s things for the next day so she could do her make-up work in the hospital.

Marcus Kane was the last teacher she stopped to see. His classroom was empty—she’d thankfully caught him on the tail-end of his break. He sat at his desk, typing away on his laptop until she knocked on his door. She felt guilty for standing outside staring a few beats before knocking, but he looked so cute as he stared contemplatively at the screen with his reading glasses perched on his nose. He stood to his feet and smiled, motioning her to come in.

“The front office buzzed and said to have Hope’s work ready for tomorrow,” he said, handing her a green folder with a stapled packet of papers inside.

“Thanks,” she said, offering a sad smile. “Her dad had a seizure at work.”

“God. Is he going to be okay?”

“They’re not sure yet. They’re running scans to see what could have caused the seizure.”

He shook his head. “Poor Hope.”

“Yeah. It’s been a rough day.”

“Do you want a coffee?” Marcus asked, already nearing the Keurig coffee maker in the back of his classroom.

“Yes. Please.”

“Have a seat,” Marcus said, motioning towards an over-sized beanbag chair in the corner of the classroom.

“What’s with the furniture?” Abby asked, amusement lacing her raspy voice.

“Flexible seating,” he said casually with a shrug as he pressed a button on the Keurig, causing the coffee machine to wail.

Moments later, he brought her a coffee as black as his dress pants and she devoured it before the steam even had a chance to rise. She’d been too busy rushing off to work on only a few hours’ sleep to stop for her usual morning coffee and then she had to leave work early to pick up Hope from school. Abby felt her life was constantly a whirlwind, not planning to let up any time soon. She’d mentally begged for the universe to just let up on her and her friends.

Marcus plopped down in a bean bag chair beside Abby and exhaled heavily. “There’s been… rumors going around about us.”

“So I’ve heard,” Abby said, unaffected.

Marcus shook his leg rapidly and sucked in air. “Well, how should we handle it?”

Abby shrugged. “It’s a small town, Marcus. People gossip and by dinner they’ll move onto a new hot topic of discussion. It’s how things have always been around here.”

He looked at her intently, concern filling his voice. “Abby, the last thing that I want to do is bring dishonor towards you. I hate hearing these rumors. I know how cruel people can be.”

“Thank you for your concern, but that’s just how Arkadia is and how it always will be. Unfortunately.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. She reached for his hand and continued. “We know what the truth is and that’s what matters. After all, there’s nothing wrong with being friends.”

Marcus nodded mutely. “Friends,” he finally said, sounding almost sad. His eyes met hers and he smiled at her uneasily. “Cheers to being friends,” he said, clinking his near-empty coffee mug with Abby’s.


	7. CH-CH-CH-Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Abby lets Marcus down, they explore life without one another until one just can't take it anymore...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! <3

A week after Paxton had a seizure at work, he was home recovering from his injuries sustained in his fall as Diyoza worked her new job as a dispatcher. He’d had another seizure while in the emergency room and it didn’t take long for the diagnosis to be epilepsy, to which he was prescribed an anticonvulsant. Abby stopped to check on him occasionally when he was admitted, but she never lingered. Paxton was an unbearable patient.

Abby hadn’t seen or heard from Marcus since their talk in his classroom. She saw the change in his face when she mentioned them being friends. They had developed somewhat of a friendly texting relationship but he hadn’t texted her since; his radio silence caused a pit to form in her stomach.

Nearly two weeks went by before he caught her in the street as she was heading to her car after picking up a few items from the grocery store. She felt a hand clasp against her wrist from behind and she spun around dramatically, readying herself to pepper spray the perpetrator until she realized she didn’t carry pepper spray (why didn’t she carry pepper spray?). Her heart rate steadied once she realized it was Marcus and that she was, most likely, not in need of pepper spray (this time). _But dammit woman, buy some pepper spray_ , she’d scolded herself. Despite knowing that she was then safe from danger, her breath still hitched in her throat at the sight of the man. She’d told herself maybe some distance would be good for them but the cliché was proving to be true: distance did make the heart grow fonder. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and tell him how much she missed him but she realized how counterintuitive that would be considering their last conversation.

She removed an AirPod from her ear and smiled at him, winded from the scare. “Marcus. Hi!”

“Hi Abby. Sorry for grabbing you like that. I called out for you but I guess you couldn’t hear me,” he replied. He dimpled as he glanced down at the AirPod in her hand which obnoxiously blared a catchy pop tune from her _Guilty Pleasures_ playlist.

She chuckled sheepishly and paused the music on her phone. “Sorry. Music is a de-stresser for me.”

“No worries,” he answered with crinkly eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Uh, listen. I was thinking about what you said and… I don’t want to be friends with you, Abby.”

Abby’s heart sank as her eyes drifted to the pavement. “Oh.”

“I want to be more than friends.”

_Oh._

“Marcus, I…”

He ran a hand through his hair and paced back and forth. “Am I crazy? Am I imagining this intense connection that we have?”

Abby merely laughed, at a total loss for words. Before she could speak, he began again.

“Abby,” he said in wonder, facing her now. “You’re kind, and smart, and beautiful… I’ve never met anyone like you. I don’t care what other people think. I understand that things are complicated for you right now but I’m willing to take things slow and give it a shot.” Obviously feeling brave after his impassioned speech, he grabbed her and pulled her against him. The sole contact with him sent electrifying signals throughout her entire form. “Please,” he added.

“I can’t,” Abby declared apologetically. Her words caught in her throat as she rested her hands on his chiseled chest.

He leaned over and pressed his mouth to her ear. “But you want to,” he whispered.

She shivered and her body quaked with desire. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, his breath was blazing and heavy as he gazed upon her with desire. Oh how badly she wished to kiss him. Methodically, he drew in and their lips graced one another’s presence, so tantalizingly close as they gently roamed over one another but never colliding. He waited for her to make the next move, but suddenly her daughter’s mortified face drifted back into her memory and she willed herself to finally pull away, breaking their trance like a shattered vase on a hardwood floor.

He hung his head in defeat, then rubbed her shoulders and kissed her temple. “I respect your decision. I just wanted to let you know where I stand. Have a nice day, Abby.”

And then he was gone.

***

ONE MONTH LATER

Purse, phone, keys, and a Yeti cup filled to the brim with cold brew and then Abby was headed for the door to support Clarke as she played in the first round of playoffs for the girl’s high school soccer team. She grabbed a worn cardigan as an afterthought that was strewn over the couch before she bolted out the door. The crisp Autumn air nipped at her bare forearms and she was glad she remembered the cardigan. Fall had officially arrived in Arkadia only a few days prior and it already covered her driveway in hues of orange and red and yellow that crunched under her boots as she stepped towards her SUV. She needed to leaf blow the driveway, but maybe next week. (It wouldn’t get done next week or the week after and Abby knew that—she was the queen of procrastination). It all decomposed and became soil anyway, right? She had more pressing matters to attend to.

She arrived to a packed parking lot moments before the game started. Pulling into the closest spot she could find, she put the car in park. Drawing a long, deep breath, she exhaled as she peered at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Dark circles haunted the lower half of her eyes from the lack of sleep she’d had over the past month. She dug in her purse and pulled out a tube of concealer, which she then dabbed over the bags. She glared at herself for a moment longer and fixed her hair before seeking the courage to step out of the vehicle.

Once she finally climbed out of her car, she adjusted her jeans that marginally threatened to slide off her hips; they were her favorite pair that had once fit so snugly until recently.

They’d had minimal contact since that time in the parking lot last month. Jake attended the scarce parent conferences while Abby made the excuse that she had to work late. When it was Abby’s turn to attend Clarke’s games, she sat as far away from Marcus Kane as humanly possible. Even catching a glimpse of his silhouette from under the field’s floodlights jabbed at her heart.

Tonight was going to be different, though. She was putting a stop to those heart-jabs.

On the night prior, Abby and Clarke lounged on the sofa and dined on Chinese takeout until Clarke noticed Abby picking at her nearly untouched food; suddenly the roles were reversed. Abby couldn’t help but remember the evening not so long ago when Clarke had been doing the same and Abby had to lovingly coax her into talking about her feelings.

“Mom. What’s wrong?” Clarke asked, worried lines forming across her forehead.

“Nothing,” Abby answered, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You seem sad.”

“I’ll be fine, baby,” she’d told her, doing her best to put on a brave façade for her daughter.

“Do you miss him?”

Tears welled up in her eyes and she merely nodded as she blinked them away.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Clarke croaked, squeezing her mother’s hand. “Screw this town, screw the kids at school. You deserve to be happy. I’d never seen you happier than you were that day in the kitchen with him. Well, before you noticed me standing in the hallway,” Clarke said, chuckling. “You looked like a deer in headlights once you saw me.”

Abby snorted, her nose flooding as she reached for a tissue.

“I guess part of me was just scared and jealous since you never looked at Dad that way,” Clarke continued. “But Dad’s happy with Becca now and you should be happy, too.”

“Really?” Abby felt her heart leap with joy.

“Of course. I hate seeing you miserable. When you told me you were going to stop hanging out with him, I was relieved, but now I see how selfish I was.”

Abby’s hand brushed Clarke’s face. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“I know, even to the extent of sacrificing your own happiness. But it’s time that I do something for you for a change and just let you be happy with whomever you choose.”

Abby chuckled snottily. “Did you just say ‘whomever’?”

Clarke nodded proudly. “Yep. I’ve been paying attention in English class.”

Abby furrowed her brow. “Are you sure that’s right?”

“Huh?”

“Whomever? Is that the correct usage?”

“I think so…”

“Hm.”

“Now you’re making me doubt myself,” Clarke said.

Abby laughed. “Who knows? English was never my best subject.” (Or was it whom knows? Abby wasn’t so sure anymore).

“I know. I’ve seen your tweets.”

“Hey!” Abby playfully nudged Clarke with a finger and returned to her meal, her heart feeling significantly less heavy than it had been in the past month.

Now, Abby found herself sitting in a cold bleacher, as close to Marcus Kane as she could get, positioned just perfectly to where he’d see her in the corner of his eye as he coached. The chill in the air nipped at her exposed cleavage that spilled out of her v-neck. Early into the game, as the girls ran out onto the field, Marcus’s eyes drifted to Abby. They held one another’s gaze for an instant before his attention was directed back to the field, his dark, pensive orbs observing the soccer ball as it was expertly passed between the players of Arkadia High.

The Ice Nation didn’t stand a chance. By half-time they were 0-5. Abby cheered Clarke on at the top of her lungs, whooping and hollering from the sidelines as Clarke successfully performed a nutmeg pass between opposing player Ontari’s legs near the end of the game. _That_ was the player Abby knew Clarke could be and she was overjoyed to see her back. If Abby wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn she noticed a microscopic smile form on Marcus’s face at her parental glee.

The final score was 1-6. The Ice Nation finally scored one point but it was due to a bad call from the referee and no one could convince Abby otherwise. She managed to compose herself and act like a civilized, upstanding citizen and only shouted a handful of curse words due to the horrific call.

After the game, the team and their families celebrated at their regular pizza parlor. Clarke joined the other girls to take turns playing Dance Dance Revolution as Abby ordered herself a slice of pizza. With her Coke in one hand and a plate donning her pepperoni pizza slice in the other, her eyes scanned the room until they found him. He sat tiredly, slouched over in a booth, scrutinizing his phone with bloodshot eyes. A glass of water sat in front of him, nearly empty, the dew dripping off the sides. Abby casually strolled over and sat across from him in the booth. Marcus’s head darted up and soon the corners of his mouth pulled up ever so slightly, his eyes tired but beaming.

“This seat taken?” Abby asked coquettishly.

Marcus smirked. “No. But I have to warn you.”

“What’s that?”

“People may talk,” he smirked.

“Let them.”


	8. Going Once, Going Twice...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Abby attend a charity auction for the girls' soccer team where Abby makes a substantial and unexpected bid.

She straightened her hair, curled her lashes, and painted her lips a dark red. Some translucent powder that she patted onto her nose spilled down onto her black dress and she uttered swears under her breath as she wiped it off. She adjusted her push-up bra, allowing more cleavage to spill from the neckline of her dress. With a few final touch-ups, she was finally out the door.

Arkadia High was holding its annual fundraiser for the girls’ soccer team. There would be dancing, dinner, (non-alcoholic) drinks, and to finish it up, an auction. Tickets were a five dollar entrance fee but the auction was the main event that brought in the most of their money.

Her heart palpitated as she neared the high school where the event was taking place. Marcus had texted her to say he would meet her out front. The two of them had hung out a few times over the past two weeks since reuniting. They FaceTimed every night and went to the gym together the past two Sundays. He was a patient personal trainer. No matter how much Abby complained, he was helpful and encouraging. Exercising was certainly much easier and enjoyable with him.

Despite all the time they had spent together, Marcus still had not asked her out on a date. Sure, they hung out, but they never gave what they were doing a name. They never got dressed up or went out together. Truth be told, she believed he was scared.

She had a feeling he’d been working up the courage to finally ask her out but then one day Abby had been picking Clarke up from practice and as she waited on her to say goodbye to her teammates, she had stood in front of her car with Marcus, flirtatiously bantering with him. He had made some cheeky remark causing her to guffaw and playfully slap him on his chest. Maybe her hand lingered, but time was merely a construct when she was in the presence of Marcus Kane. Looking completely embarrassed, Clarke had appeared beside them and shot Marcus the most evil eye which caused him to shrivel up into a small form of a terrified man. He would later text Abby to say that the only person who scared him more than her was her daughter. Abby had a talk with Clarke in the car to remind her that she had given Abby her blessing, to which Clarke had said she gave her blessing but she would rather not see it. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” Abby had retorted.

Feeling frustrated and growing impatient, Abby had decided that tonight she was going to take matters into her own hands.

“I can’t believe they’re auctioning me off,” Marcus had told her the night before on FaceTime.

It was his friend Vice Principal Indra Wood’s idea and to her it was the funniest thing to imagine a shy, uncomfortable Marcus standing on a stage while all the loneliest women of Arkadia bid on him.

Abby arrived at the school with her purse as heavy as a weight with plans to make a charitable donation in the name of soccer. Of course, she was only doing it to help the soccer team. She had no ulterior motive whatsoever.

Marcus waited at the bottom of the steps for her arrival, just as he promised. He looked so handsome in his black dress pants and white button down shirt. He took her hand and spun her around, gazing at her appreciatively.

“You look beautiful,” he said, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek that lingered long after the pink flush had faded.

Abby was never one to pine but she genuinely missed the presence of him and it had only been a number of days since they had last spent time together. They ate, drank, and danced and before long the night was nearing an end and it was time for the auction. Marcus kissed her on the cheek as he left their table to join Principal Miller and Vice Principal Woods on the stage for the last auction of the night: a date with Marcus Kane.

***

 _There was no way anyone was going to bid on something as ridiculous as this_ , Marcus thought. He was dead wrong.

Principal Miller started the bid off at $35 which soon turned to $50 from an eager soccer mom who always turned up early to the conferences. Another mom, recently widowed, upped the ante to $75, to which another, older woman bid $100. A few groans from some disappointed women could be heard from the audience as many had not planned to bid over $100 at a school function.

 _Absolutely ridiculous,_ he thought.

Another woman, Hannah Green, bid $125. From the few interactions he’d had with her, he found her to be insufferable, always in everybody else’s business. 

His heart dropped as the bidding slowed. _Anybody but her_ , he begged the universe.

“Going once,” said Principal Miller.

_God, no._

“Going twice…”

“FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS,” cried a familiar voice from the back of the gymnasium.

Hannah Green’s face fell as Abby stood from her seat, holding her checkbook in one hand and donning a proud smile. Marcus’s eyes widened at not only the amount of money she was willing to pay for a date with him (to which he’d had given her for free at any time if he hadn’t been so scared of her daughter), but how she, in her own way, had just publicly announced her feelings towards him. Despite himself, he began to grin like an idiot as he breathed a sigh of relief.

The bidding fell to a halt and the audience stared at Abby in complete shock. Indra broke the silence as she grabbed the microphone and called out to Abby. “Going once, going twice, SOLD! Come and get your man, Abby Griffin!”

Soon enough, Abby was on stage with him and he pulled her into a hug and kissed her temple as the audience offered them a confused applause. It was no secret to any of the townsfolk that Abby was going through a complicated divorce and Marcus could see the judgement on their faces but he couldn’t care less. The petite woman standing beside him in her fitted black dress with heels that accentuated her muscular, golden calves just perfectly was the first person he thought of when he woke up every morning and the last thing on his mind when he laid his head down at night. She was everything he had ever dreamed of and she had just bid to go on a date with _him_.

He took her by her soft, elegant hand and escorted her down the stairs and back to their table where they gathered their things and headed to the parking lot with the rest of the dispersing crowd.

They walked hand-in-hand to her vehicle, their footsteps falling into rhythm with one another. She hooked her arms around his neck and he pushed himself up against her as he backed her up into her car. She rested her forehead on his as he rubbed his hand on the small of her back.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said with her raspy voice that drove him wild.

“I should be thanking _you_. You saved me from Hannah Green.”

She threw her head back, a throaty laugh escaping her. She brushed a curl away and her forehead came back to rest against his. She chewed at her lip thoughtfully, grinning up at him. “It’s pretty sad how I had to pay $500 to finally get a date with you but at least it’s tax deductible.”

Marcus’s jaw slacked. “Seriously? I thought we were taking things slow!”

“Well, I was growing impatient.”

He chuckled, shaking his head slowly as he lost himself in her pools of chocolatey brown eyes. “Figures,” he said finally.

“Kiss me,” she said in a low, sultry voice, pulling him against her by his collar.

“No,” he croaked.

She pulled back hastily and slapped his chest. “Why not?” she asked, appearing affronted.

“Because I want it to be special,” he said, failing to hold back his laughter at her zest to kiss him.

“You nearly devoured me in the Target parking lot and _now_ you’re wanting to wait?”

“That sounds _so_ unromantic… But yes, now that I have you, I want to savor it.” He caressed her velvety soft cheek. “And besides, you paid $500 for a date, I should make it as special as I can for you.”

“So you promise to kiss me on our date?”

He leaned in and pressed his mouth to her ear. “I promise to do as much to you as you’ll allow.”

She shuddered beneath his touch which inspired a newfound confidence within himself. He ran a thumb gently over her delicate lips and drew in, moving over just enough to miss her mouth as he planted a tantalizingly slow, open-mouthed kiss to her cheek. 

“Goodnight Abby,” he whispered.

As he turned to leave, he could hear her huffs of frustration while she climbed into her car.

***

Gazing up at the starry night sky, Abby sat barefoot in the bed of Marcus’s truck, a blanket wrapped around her arms which he’d placed over her just moments prior. It had been an unusually warm Autumn day until the sun fell.

Marcus had parked on the top of a small mountain that overlooked the cityscape but still far away from light pollution for Abby to see countless stars in the sky. “There’s Orion,” she said excitedly. Marcus merely nodded, grinning at her enthusiasm over the luminous orbs in the far off sky.

They sipped on moonshine and sweet iced tea and dined on pizza that Marcus had picked up from the pizza parlor. Half a moon peeked down at them from behind a cloud. Far away from wagging tongues and watching eyes, Abby sat comfortably with her feet on Marcus’s lap as they hummed along to the radio between bites of food. It was late and Marcus had to work the next morning but Abby’s shift didn’t end until 8 P.M. Not wanting to wait another day for their date, they decided to meet for a lowkey late dinner.

They swapped travel stories as Marcus told tales of his time as a semi-professional soccer player and Abby spoke of her monumental family vacations growing up, as well as her time when she studied abroad. They had even discovered that they were once both in Vancouver around the same time. Abby and Clarke had taken a vacation to visit some relatives (Jake was working) and Marcus was there for a game. Abby couldn’t help but shake her head in astonishment at how close their paths came to crossing all those years ago, yet there they were now, on their first date with butterflies in their stomachs like they were young again.

Their conversation constantly flowed, varying from topics of family to television shows to conspiracy theories. They probably would have stayed out all night had the thunder not began to roll, booming across the mountain. A blinding flash of lightning struck, driving them to swiftly pack up and rush to the truck for refuge just as the clouds began to open up like a bursting floodgate. They were both soaked down to their skin by the time they climbed inside.

Breath heavy from adrenaline, they shared a bout of laughter as they slammed the doors to the truck. They locked eyes and their laughter died off a bit too soon. Marcus’s hand drifted to her face and pushed a strand of dripping hair back behind her ear. She shivered, cool from the rain paired with the evening Autumn temperature outside. A stillness fell over them.

“You’re drenched,” she breathed as he began to draw nearer.

“So are you,” he murmured.

He paused, as close to her as one second is to another. His lips lightly brushed hers as a war raged on in her mind. She was still married. Was she doing the right thing? But her body had ached for him for so long. Before she could pull herself from her thoughts, his hands cupped her neck and his lips honed in on hers. She wasn’t sure what was pounding more, the heart in her chest as he kissed her with a fervent zeal that made her body fall helplessly limp, or the hood of his Dodge Ram as the rain and thunder waged its own war outside. He kissed her with such force comparable to the storm outside; this kiss was more powerful, though: it was the type of kiss that broke open the sky and put hurricanes to shame. His demanding mouth parted her lips as she melted into him like a puddle. His hands were all over her, roaming her needy body as she hooked her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss further.

Neither wanted to part, but they both needed to breathe. They willed themselves to finally separate. “Warm yet?” Marcus asked in a pant. She could feel his prickly smile against her lips.

“Almost,” she said, pulling him in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments appreciated! Comments truly make my day no matter how small.


	9. Imagine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus works up his courage to ask Abby out on a proper date.

It was a beautifully clear and crisp Autumn day. The sky was a gorgeous azure, the bright blue a contrast to the brown and orange earth. Abby, Callie, and Diyoza stood outside the towering brick chapel in a tight circle, speaking in hushed voices as they chattered on about their love lives. They had just finished sitting through an incredibly long and dull infant baptismal ceremony for a friend of a friend’s newest arrival.

“Since Paxton’s recovery, he’s been a sex maniac,” Diyoza whispered as they gathered together sipping on apple cider. Giggles escaped from the duo.

“What about you?” Diyoza asked Callie.

Callie’s cheeks flushed pink. “Well, you know I normally don’t kiss and tell—”

“Oh give me a break, yes you do,” Abby chimed, earning a laugh from her friends. Abby and Diyoza leaned in to listen intently as Callie opened up about her recent fling.

“Well, we spent the entire weekend in bed. He had a flight to Boston last night… But he turned around and got an early flight out this morning,” Callie said with a smirk. “I’ll spare you the details lest I burst into flames in the church parking lot,” she added, evoking a laugh from her companions.

“So…” Diyoza began as their laughter died off, looking at Abby expectantly.

“Yes?”

“Spill the beans,” Callie blurted. “How was your date with Marcus Kane?”

Abby simpered, her eyes shining brightly. Her mood instantly lifted at the sound of his name. “It was incredible,” she gushed.

“And?” Diyoza probed.

“Well… We kissed,” she said giddily as a flush crept up on her face.

“Aaand?”

“And that’s it.”

“Bullshit,” Callie blurted a little too loudly, immediately covering her mouth as an elderly member of the church darted her head around, looking utterly revolted.

“Honest! I want our first time to be special, not in the backseat of his truck like two teenagers.”

“Do you think that first time will happen soon?” asked Diyoza.

“God, I sure hope so,” Abby said, a snort escaping her.

Later that day, Abby was in the middle of her shift at the hospital, doing her rounds, barely taking time to stop despite her aching feet and throbbing back. She was an in-shape woman but the job still took its toll on her body especially considering that she wasn’t getting any younger. (A thought that chilled her to the bone). Earlier, Marcus had texted her asking when she would likely have time for lunch, and when that time came around, he arrived just in time with a burrito bowl ordered exactly how she liked it.

Placing the burrito bowl on her desk, she took Marcus by the hand and led him to the nearest, quietest stairwell.

“What are we doing?” he whispered, the excitement in his voice evident.

Abby pushed him against the cold wall of the hospital as her lips found his.

“I’ve missed you,” she said as she devoured him hungrily.

“Mmm. I’ve missed you, too,” he replied in between kisses.

She willed herself to break away from his kiss, aware of two things: her half-hour lunch break always went by far too quickly and her co-workers watched them head to the stairwell, meaning they couldn’t stay gone for very long.

“I appreciate the warm welcome,” Marcus said as he cleared his throat, his face flushed pink. Abby smiled and flattened his messy hair. “While I have you, I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me next weekend. You know, as a date. You deserve a proper dinner date.”

Abby scanned his eyes, her mouth vacant of words.

“Abby?”

“Could we… possibly go somewhere out of town?”

His face fell slightly. “I promise I know how to use silverware. I have table manners, as well,” he said jokingly, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s not that, Marcus, it’s… I’m just not sure I’m ready for Arkadia-level scrutiny.”

“But you bid on me at charity night…”

“I know. I just… I need more time. I’m sorry. But I’d love to go out next weekend, maybe to Polis City?”

“I understand. Polis City it is. I’ll plan everything.”

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

With one last, lingering kiss goodbye, Marcus headed down the stairwell (she had learned he had a fear of elevators, a fact he was ashamed to share) as Abby attacked her burrito bowl in the few remaining minutes of her lunch break.

She finished work by midnight and when she arrived home, Clarke’s bedroom light shone from underneath the crack of her door. Abby knocked on the door lightly and the light immediately shut off. With a roll of her eyes, she opened the door and turned Clarke’s bedroom light back on and perched on the edge of her bed.

“What are you still doing up? You have school tomorrow!”

Clarke sat up, relinquishing her attempt to feign sleep. “Sorry, Mom. Raven and I were video calling and we lost track of time.”

“Well, since you’re up, I suppose I could share the news with you now.”

Clarke eyed her mom curiously as she waited for Abby to continue.

“Marcus is taking me out to dinner next weekend.”

“Oh.”

“Try not to have an aneurysm from your excitement,” Abby deadpanned. “You did give me permission, you know.”

“I know… I thought you two already went out to dinner. You remember? When you embarrassingly paid five-hundred-dollars and asked him out in front of half the town.” Clarke didn’t sound too pleased. They hadn’t really discussed what happened but of course the kids at school apparently got wind really quickly and teased Clarke over it. Kids were always going to find something to be assholes about, including charitable events, apparently.

Abby pulled a face. “You weren’t there, that wasn’t how it went at all. And besides, it was for charity. This time it’s different. It’ll be a proper date.”

Clarke sighed in surrender. “Fine. Whatever. Just don’t get pregnant. That would be mortifying for me.”

Abby laughed nervously. “I’m not going to get pregnant! My God, Clarke.”

“Just saying.”

Abby kissed her daughter goodnight and turned off the light as she closed the door behind her. Stopping in her tracks she came to a sudden and scary realization: she had never intimately been with anyone other than Jake Griffin. They were each other’s firsts and she thought they would be one another’s lasts but unfortunately for her, she was only the first of many for Jake.

She felt a strange, sudden wave of insecurity flood her senses. Half of her was tempted to Google “sex” to see if she had been doing it right all those years. Dear God, she was being ridiculous. Marcus was a wonderful man and she was sure he would be patient with her. The last thing she needed to do was rush their relationship anyway.

As she laid down that night, she just couldn’t help but imagine would it would be like to feel Marcus’s weight on her small frame as their bodies intertwined, glistening skin melting together as they moved rhythmically, composing their own beautiful love song. Somewhere in the midst of those thoughts, her hand found her hot, slick core as she imagined feeling his length inside of her. She imagined initial feeling of pressure as she’d adjust to his length. He would move slowly in and out at first, taking his time with her, as patient as always. She thought of the noises he would make. She imagined the chanting of her name on his lips, repeating it like a mantra. His breath would be hot on her neck as his movements became quick and frantic. She imagined her fingernails digging into the skin of his back. She’d cling to him. They’d be desperate for one another. The pressure would build and build until finally… release.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos make my day :)


	10. All Best Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke begins to spiral. Abby and Marcus go out to dinner.

“Shut up!” Clarke shouted, lunging for Octavia in the hallway just outside the locker room. Thankfully Raven and Harper stepped in to separate the girls, all the while Octavia wore a smug grin on her face. Marcus didn’t catch what Octavia had said but it obviously had upset Clarke.

“Griffin,” Marcus called. “In my office. Now.”

Clarke reluctantly pulled herself away from the group and stepped into Marcus’s office.

“Coach.”

“You have to stop letting Octavia get under your skin.”

Clarke scoffed. “Well why don’t you tell her to stop antagonizing me.”

“I will. But I need to talk to you first… Because I know your mom already did.”

“Yeah, she did, so you don’t have to.”

As she began to walk away, he gently caught her by the wrist and peered at her sternly from under his brows. She sighed in surrender and dropped her bag at her feet.

“I can’t have you or your teammates thinking I’m going to go easy on you just because I’m seeing your mom.”

“So what? You’re going to come down on me harder?”

“No,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “I’m going to continue to deal with you fairly, just as a coach should.”

“Yeah. A coach. _Just_ a coach.”

Marcus sighed. “Clarke, I would never try to step into your father’s shoes, no matter what happens between me and your mom. I understand how tough things are between the three of you right now. It isn’t easy being in the middle of these things. But please don’t push your parents away. Either one of them. Because when you finally decide to reach out and mend things, it may be too late… I’ve been there.”

“What happened? Did he stop talking to you? Your dad?”

Marcus’s heart dropped. He never talked about his father. He swallowed hard. “No,” he said, clearing his throat as he gathered himself. “He died.”

Clarke fell silent.

“I don’t want to overstep but I just think that if you were a little less angry at your parents and the situation, you’d be a little less angry with everyone else. I know Octavia can be a brat but when you snap like that, you’re just giving her the reaction that she wants.”

“No, Coach. No. I have the right to my own feelings and my own space!”

Marcus shrugged. “So does your mom.”

Clarke chewed at her lip. “I want to be happy for her,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This just isn’t easy for me…”

“None of this easy. It takes time. But Clarke, please… Don’t push everyone away.”

She didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead she picked up her bag and headed for the door.

“Tell Octavia I’d like to see her,” Marcus called on her way out.

***

“No frozen concoctions tonight?” Callie asked, sounding dismayed.

“My blender’s shot,” Abby frowned. “It’ll be margaritas on ice for tonight, ladies.”

“Well I don’t discriminate,” said Diyoza. “A marg is a marg.”

Abby had to agree with that. After the day she had with Clarke, she needed a drink, or several. Despite Clarke’s early attempts at accepting Abby and Marcus’s newfound romance, the teen hadn’t come to terms with it as easily as Abby had hoped. The relentless teasing at school from childish bullies wasn’t helping the matter. Clarke had also admitted to Abby that she didn’t like Jake’s new girlfriend and that she just wanted her parents back together. Abby explained to Clarke, once again, that that just wasn’t going to happen. Just when things started to feel like they were getting better, she noticed Clarke slipping back into a darkness again, pushing away everyone around her, but especially Jake. Despite Abby’s hard feelings towards him, he was still Clarke’s father and deserved a chance at a relationship with her. Abby tried to explain to her daughter that despite Jake’s decisions, she’ll regret in the long run pushing him away. It fell on deaf ears but Abby was a teenager once and understood that sometimes it just took some time.

She shook the thoughts from her mind, determined to enjoy her evening with the girls. She scooped up a heaping serving of guacamole on a chip, biting down with a crunch. “So… I have news,” she said in between bites, unable to contain her excitement any longer.

“Tell us! Tell us!” Callie and Diyoza said in unison, gathering as closely to Abby as they could.

Abby chuckled and pushed them away. “Give me some space, ladies!” She cleared her throat and then proceeded. “Marcus is taking me on a proper date,” she gushed.

Callie squealed and fell speechless with glee.

“Where are you going?” Diyoza asked, remaining her usual cool, controlled self.

“I don’t know. I told him I didn’t want to go somewhere with tongues wagging. I’m just not ready for the comments and interruption that dining publicly in Arkadia would bring. He said he would plan it all.”

“Wow,” Diyoza said. “A man who plans things on his own? Swoon!”

***

Taking advantage of her day off, Abby took the time to catch up on some sleep since Marcus was at work and Clarke was at school. She had just woken from her nap when she heard the doorbell ring. She padded to the front door, her bare feet slapping gently against the hardwood. She pathetically had to stand slightly on her tippy toes to look through the peep hole of the front door. Her heart leapt at the sight of Marcus standing on the other side of the door. She opened the door with a flourish, a wide grin spreading across her face.

“Marcus! Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“They let me out for lunch twice a semester. Thought I’d make good use of my free time.” His lips immediately found hers and he tore off his leather jacket, letting it slump to the floor at his feet. He backed her up into the foyer and then turned her around and pressed her against the door, gently shutting it with the pressure of their bodies. Their tongues swirled as he kissed her with a swift, fervent passion that left her dizzy once they finally broke apart, gasping for air, his desire for her evident against her thigh.

She ran a hand through his beard and then stroked his cheek. “Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me tonight?”

He smirked, knowing she just couldn’t handle a secret. “Why do you need to know so badly?”

“Well I need to know what to wear, Marcus!”

“Good excuse. Just dress… comfortable.”

Abby groaned, her head falling against his broad shoulder. “That is such a man answer.” He was helpless.

He took her face into his strong hands and gazed at her with his usual intensity that continued to burn a fire in her belly. “Just trust me, okay? There will be no busy bodies. I will have you all… to… myself…” He punctuated each word with a soft, wet kiss on her lips and made her melt in his arms. He kissed her once more and groaned as he pried himself away. “You’re gonna make me late for class,” he said with a smirk.

***

It was early evening when Marcus arrived at her doorstep wearing a black button down shirt, dark jeans, and shiny chestnut oxford shoes. He looked dashing. She was sure her heart skipped a beat when she opened the door. She stilled her shaking hand by grasping her clutch, suddenly feeling like a teenager on her first date. Come to think of it, she hadn’t had a first date since… well, since she was a teenager. He held one hand behind his back and as Abby’s eyes fell to his hidden hand, he slowly revealed a bouquet of sunflowers as a cheeky grin spread across his face.

“Marcus!” Abby gasped. “They’re beautiful. Come in and let me go put them in some water.”

Marcus stepped inside and Abby turned to quickly find a vase for the flowers. Once they were in water and sitting beautifully on her dining room table, she returned and finally greeted Marcus with a tight hug. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I just saw you at lunchtime,” Marcus chuckled. “But I agree. It felt much longer.”

She hooked her arms around his neck and breathed him in. His cologne was warm and intoxicating—almost as intoxicating as his kisses. She hummed, smiling contently, deciding she’d be happy if they stood there in one another’s arms all night. His hands slowly slid down to rest at her hips and then they fell to his side.

“We should get going,” he said as he kissed her temple.

***

He walked her to his truck, and he held her hand as she climbed inside. He mused to herself how much more difficult it had been getting into his truck if she’d not been wearing jeggings. He fought away a smirk from forming at the thought.

They held hands during the ride and sat in comfortable silence save for Abby singing along with the radio under her breath, humming the words she didn’t know. It was something so simple yet so endearing to Marcus. He smiled to himself as he took comfort in her hums and mumbles to the popular tune.

After a relatively short distance, they arrived at their destination. Marcus pulled into the driveway to an old Victorian-style home which he’d been to just earlier preparing for their romantic evening. Abby looked at him, confused. “Wait, where are we? We’re at least thirty minutes from Polis City.”

Marcus smirked. “I had a better idea.”

He made his way to her side and opened the door for her, helping her out of the truck.

***

Abby held Marcus’s hand as he walked her around back behind the home to an intimate backyard seating area. A small table for two with a white table cloth sat in the middle of the yard with white twinkling string lights hanging all around, lighting up the yard like the abundant stars in the night sky. Marcus pulled out a chair for Abby and she sat down, eyeing the view in wonder.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Coach Kane,” she said with a chuckle of disbelief. She placed her hands above his, they were comfortably warm to the touch despite the mild autumn chill in the air.

She watched as he reached for a bottle of champagne that rested on ice in front of them. He popped the cork abruptly, the sudden noise causing Abby to nearly jump out of her skin. Despite herself, a squeal escaped her from the scare and she covered her mouth, laughing at herself. She noticed Marcus was laughing, too, as he poured them each a glass, wiping the excess liquid that had spilled onto his hands.

“Cheers,” he began, raising his glass as she followed, “to an evening without wagging tongues or interruption.” They clinked their glasses of champagne then took a sip in unison, their eyes locking until Abby noticed the opening of a door in her peripheral. She turned to see a woman in a chef’s outfit walking towards them. Abby’s mouth gaped as she turned to face Marcus again. She shook her head in bewilderment at all he had done for their evening together.

“This is a lot nicer than the date that I paid for,” she joked.

Marcus snickered, choking on his champagne. “I had a bit more time to plan for this one.”

“You could have had more time to plan for the first date but _someone_ was impatient.”

“Yes. _You_ were impatient.”

Abby chewed on her lips, forcing away the smile that threatened to form.

“Ready?” she chef asked, smiling politely.

Abby and Marcus shared a look and then told the chef they were ready for their meal. She came back with two plates of creamy mushroom stroganoff, kale, carrots, and freshly baked rolls. Abby’s eyes lit up at the sight and her stomach responded with a growl. They dined in their usual, comfortable silence, sharing longing looks in between bites of stroganoff. His dark brown eyes hypnotized her almost as much as his glinting white smile. With only little left on their plates, a realization began to dawn on Abby and she asked herself… What was going to happen next? Her pulse quickened at the thoughts. She had certainly fantasized about it but how would they? Where would they? All she knew was she wanted to—she wanted _him_. She looked upon him with lust filled eyes, placing featherlight touches to his hand that formed goosebumps on his forearm. She maneuvered her leg over and brushed his calf with the tip of her heel. She bit her lip and eyed him lustfully, his own hunger evident—and he wasn’t craving food. There was only one way to sate their carnal appetites.

“Where?” she asked.

She watched the slow roll of his Adam’s apple as his breathing picked up at her suggestion. “We haven’t had dessert yet,” he growled.

“Dessert can wait,” she said.

Their trance was broken as if someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water on them at the sound of Abby’s phone dinging.

“Sorry,” she groaned. “Thought I turned the damn thing on silent.”

“You’re a mother, Abby,” Marcus said, his demeanor much softer than moments prior. “I understand.”

With a sigh, Abby hesitantly opened her phone and checked her messages. It was Clarke. Jake had just told her that he was engaged, that his girlfriend Becca was pregnant, and that he wanted Clarke to be in their wedding. Clarke was distraught and messaging Abby to please come home.

After Abby filled Marcus in, she apologized. “I want to be in your life to enrich it, not complicate it,” he told her, instantly lifting her spirits some, despite her missing out on dessert. He took her by the hand and walked her back to his truck and drove her home.

Marcus dropped Abby off and walked her up the drive way. “Thank you for tonight,” she said. The closing of Abby’s front door caused both of their heads to turn to see a forlorn Jake standing on the porch. “I got it from here,” she whispered.

Marcus eyed Jake then looked back at Abby hesitantly. “If you’re sure.”

“Yeah. I am. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Marcus said, placing a friendly hand on her forearm before heading back to his truck.

Abby watched as he drove off before she joined Jake on the porch, trying to control the rage inside.

“You look nice,” Jake said.

“Thanks for bringing Clarke home,” Abby said, pointedly ignoring his compliment.

“Not that she wanted to be in the car with me… I’m guessing you heard that I invited Clarke to be in the wedding.”

“You should have talked to me first. We’ve been over this. You say you want to co-parent but _this_ is not how it’s done.”

“Still, there’s no reason for her to cause a scene the way she did.”

A derisive scoff escaped Abby despite herself. “I swear to God, Jake, you just don’t get it. You ambushed her. We don’t even have divorce papers yet!” Abby pushed past him and began to reach for the door knob.

“You’re right,” Jake said.

Abby turned, surprised to hear those two words that so rarely ever escaped her ex-husband’s mouth.

“You’re right. Okay? I should have talked to you first. It’s just… I’m _trying_ to have a relationship with our kid, okay? I thought including her in the wedding would help that.”

“I can’t understand how you got there.”

“I was excited, Abby. I’m going to be a father again! I thought Clarke would be ecstatic.”

Even though her feelings for Jake were long gone, her heart slightly broke at his words. She debated on her words, eventually deciding to not hold back. “Or she feels like you’re abandoning her and starting a new family before you’re even divorced from her mother. Get a grip, Jake. Start trying to put yourself in someone else’s shoes but your own for once.” Abby opened the front door to her home before turning back with one final thought. “Oh, and congratulations. On the baby and the engagement.”

Jake scoffed. “Jealously doesn’t look good on you, Abby.”

“Oh please.”

“How was your date tonight, anyway? Since we’re talking about me moving on too quickly.”

Abby stopped in her tracks. She forced a smile and looked him straight in his eyes. “It was the best date I’ve ever had. Goodnight, Jake.”


	11. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheers! To new beginnings! Marcus tries to reason with Clarke; Callie presents Abby with a life-changing gift.

Marcus stacked the last of the cones and gathered the pinnies in a bunch. His eyes caught a glimpse of the swaying blonde hair as she exited the bathroom. He’d been wanting to talk to her all day but decided to wait until after practice. “Clarke,” he called out. “Do you have a minute?”

Clarke looked out to the car where her mom waited. Abby waved at them both. They waved back and then directed their attention back to one another. “Yeah, Coach?”

“I was just wanting to check and see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Clarke groaned. “You know way too much about my personal life since you’re dating my mom.”

“I’m just concerned,” Marcus said, growing agitated but trying to keep his composure as he remembered Abby was watching. “You’d been doing so well but with all that’s been going on, you’ve kind of checked out again. If you’re not staring off into space you’re trying to fight Octavia.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Listen to me, Clarke. I chose you for team captain for a reason. I’ve been your advocate. Don’t make me regret that. A good leader knows when to respond and when to ignore. A good leader is in control of their emotions. I’m not seeing that from you right now but I know you have it in you. I understand you’re going through a lot right now but don’t let it jeopardize this. You have a future in soccer if you can apply yourself.”

“You really think that? That I have a future in soccer?”

Marcus smiled to himself. That was all she chose to respond to that, but at least she responded. He watched her hard shell slowly crack open. “Yes. I do. But please don’t bring to the field what’s going on at home. Leave it in the car. And for God’s sake, just ignore Blake. She just loves to get a rise from you.”

Clarke looked over to see a miserable Octavia still running laps for antagonizing Clarke the day before. Marcus could see Clarke chuckle, a small twinkle in her eye at the sweet taste of revenge. Clarke turned back to face him and took a deep breath. “Thanks, Coach… I’ll work on my ‘leadership skills’.” She was mocking him but he didn’t care, she was slightly smiling with a half-hearted promise to do better and that’s what mattered to Marcus.

The next day, Marcus stopped by the hospital after work to surprise Abby. He’d walked in on what seemed like a very heated argument between Jackson and an intern, with Abby playing referee between the two.

“Marcus!” Jackson shouted. “Important question: are you for or against Dolly?”

“Dolly? Dolly Parton or the Dalai Lama?”

“Dolly Parton,” Jackson said, almost shocked that Marcus had to ask.

“Umm… For?”

Jackson’s eyes grew wide. “You don’t sound sure. Are you sure?”

“Sure?”

Abby laughed and covered her face. “Leave my boyfriend alone, Jackson, he didn’t come all this way to listen to you fanboy over Dolly Parton.” She directed her attention to Marcus but he barely heard what she said next because he was still too focused on her usage of the word “boyfriend”. She called him her boyfriend… in front of other people. He felt like he was on cloud nine. She took him by the hand and led him into a quiet, dark room with two small cots on each side. She closed the door behind them and pressed her body against his, their lips frantically finding each other.

“This was a pleasant surprise,” she said in between kisses.

“Mmm,” was all Marcus could muster as his head was spinning from her touch and taste until that one magical word returned to his memory. “Boyfriend, huh?” he asked, smiling smugly against her lips.

“Oh, don’t let it go to your head,” Abby said, slapping his chest.

“Are you free tonight? I was hoping to take you out to dinner?”

Abby sighed. “I’m swamped or I would. I’m sorry.”

“How about this weekend? My place. I’ll cook.”

She raised a brow curiously. “You can cook?”

Marcus leaned in and placed a longing kiss on her velvet soft lips. “Come and find out.”

***

The next day, Abby arrived home after yet another trying day at work to find Clarke sitting on the couch doing homework.

“What are you working on?” Abby asked casually as she grabbed a drink from the fridge.

“Health homework. Do you know how awkward it is for your health teacher to be dating your mom? We’ve been learning about sex and sexual diseases this week and I just want to crawl in a hole…”

Abby chuckled. “Oh, Clarke, grow up. It’s all a part of life. I’m glad your school isn’t holding back and is actually teaching the important things than just abstinence.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Clarke muttered as she erased a mistake in her notebook.

Despite Abby feeling absolutely haggard, she had Callie and Diyoza over for an “emergency margarita night” per Callie’s words. Abby didn’t understand the urgency and Callie was vague in her texts but after the day at work Abby had, she wasn’t going to deny a margarita night. She talked to Marcus on the phone for a bit and then freshened up in the shower, finishing up just in time to hear the doorbell ring.

Abby invited the two women in as Hope pushed past them and made her way to the couch, music blaring from her headphones. Diyoza had a takeout bag filled with chips, salsa, and street tacos from their favorite place. Diyoza and Abby laid the food all out on the countertop as Callie poured them each a margarita on the rocks (Abby still hadn’t purchased a new blender). After the food was all gone and their glasses were empty, Callie grandly presented Abby with a white box donned with a red ribbon and bow.

“What’s this?” Abby questioned.

“Open it up,” Callie said, beaming.

Abby opened the box to find a stack of official looking documents. Her eyes grew wide. “My divorce papers,” she said in a whisper.

“That’s right,” Callie said. “Sinclair dropped them off today and Jake’s already signed.”

Abby shook her head. “It just doesn’t seem real. One signature and it’s all over…” She sighed heavily, pausing before lighting up again. “Who has a pen?” she asked excitedly.

“You scared the crap out of me!” Callie blurted.

“Cheers to new beginnings,” Diyoza said as Abby handed the signed papers back to Callie.

“To new beginnings!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one for this week! Hope you enjoyed. Next chapter will be longer, just had to set this all up first. Kudos and comments make my day so if you liked it please let me know :)


	12. What Have We Gotten Ourselves Into?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus receives a surprise visitor and then attends an unexpected meeting that could possibly cause a rift in his and Abby's relationship.

Marcus was finishing up grading a stack of unit tests when he heard the sound of high heels clacking wildly in the hallway, getting closer and closer to him. He lifted his head to see the co-coach of the girls’ soccer team, Coach Shumway, and Octavia Blake’s mother, Aurora Blake, entering his office. Shumway looked more like Aurora’s hostage in the moment than her daughter’s soccer coach. 

“Ms. Blake!” Marcus said with surprise.

“Hey there! I was just congratulating Coach Shumway on that sweet new baby girl of his. And now I’d like to congratulate you both on what a great season we’re having so far! I am so excited that the girls are heading to regionals!”

Marcus smiled and thanked her, pride swelling inside of him. Sure, he had been a soccer player at one time in his life, but coaching was an entirely different field of expertise and he had his doubts whether he would be successful at it. The fact they were going to regionals confirmed to Marcus that he wasn’t doing half bad. “The girls have worked hard,” he said humbly.

“I explained to Ms. Blake that every single player has been given the opportunity to play at her highest level all season long,” chimed Shumway.

“But the season is not over,” she said in an overexaggerated friendly tone.

“No ma’am it is not,” said Marcus.

“I know you’re not from around here, Coach Kane,” Aurora began, “so you may or may not know how important this next game against Mount Weather High is for us.”

“Well, I teach my kids to treat every game the same.”

She chuckled. “That’s nice. But this game is _extremely_ important. In many ways, it’s the biggest game of the season.” Coach Shumway stood idly by, nodding his head in silent agreement. Small town rivalries were so strange.

Marcus exhaled loudly, suddenly realizing he’d been holding his breath. “No pressure,” he said, feeling extremely pressured all the while.

“There will be no pressure if you make Octavia team captain. She has the leadership skills and has worked hard all season long. I was _stunned_ when you named that _Griffin_ girl team captain instead of my Octavia.” The name Griffin dripped off of her lips like venom.

“Well,” Marcus said, finally standing to his feet, “I appreciate your input Ms. Blake. Thanks for stopping by.”

She stood planted firmly, blocking the exit. “Octavia is every bit as good, if not better, than Clarke Griffin, and if you weren’t busy rolling in the sheets with her mother, you’d know that.”

Despite himself, Marcus chuckled as his face burned. “Team captain is more than just being good at soccer, Ms. Blake. And I want to win tomorrow’s game just as much as anybody. _That_ is the only reason that Clarke Griffin will remain team captain.”

“Hmm. Let’s just see about that,” Aurora said as she stormed out of his office.

After practice, Marcus and Shumway were called to the conference room over the intercom. “Here we go,” Shumway said with a roll of his eyes.

“The Blake parent?” Marcus asked in disbelief.

“Who else could it be?” Shumway asked. His question was more like a statement of the obvious.

Sure enough, they entered the conference room to find Principal Miller, Vice Principal Woods, Aurora, Abby, and even Jake. _Here we go_ , Marcus said to himself, mimicking Shumway’s words from just moments prior.

Shumway took a seat at the round table, seemingly under the assumption that it wouldn’t be a quick meeting. Marcus walked over to Abby and greeted her with a whisper. “How’s it going?” he asked.

Abby immediately lit up when she saw him, causing his stomach to do a flip. “As good as it can be with Aurora Blake and Jake Griffin here.”

Marcus chuckled, his eyes falling to Jake’s icy cold stare—his pain untold—directed at the both of them. “Yeah…”

“I saw Callie last night,” Abby whispered.

“Oh?” Marcus asked.

Abby opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Principal Miller’s voice.

“Sorry for the location, folks, but my office wasn’t big enough for this gathering. So, why don’t we all sit down?”

Despite his request, the only one that was sitting was Shumway; everyone else continued to stand, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. Marcus, not wanting to be rude, shrugged and perched himself on a smaller round table off towards the back where he and Abby were standing.

“So,” Principal Miller began, “I know we all have other places to be. I’ll make this quick. Coach Kane, it has been brought to my attention that Ms. Blake is worried that you’re demonstrating favoritism in selecting your team captain because of your, uh, personal relationship with some… parents.” Principal Miller’s eyes fell to Abby who stood uncomfortably beside Marcus, her eyes shifting from one side of the room to the other. Marcus knew Abby was far from being shy but she was also certainly not the type of person that ever cared for unnecessary attention. That much was clear to anybody based off of the look on her face during the meeting.

“Alright, we’re not going to screw around here, okay?” Jake began. Marcus faintly heard Abby mutter something indistinct under her breath. Jake continued. “Why don’t you just admit, Aurora, that you’re pissed off because Clarke is more talented than Octavia?”

“First of all, how would we know when Octavia stays on the bench? It obviously appears that Coach Kane has a vested interest in keeping the Griffins, or rather, a certain Griffin, happy,” retorted Aurora.

Marcus spoke up. “My coaching decisions have nothing to do with my personal life.”

“You give Clarke extra attention!”

“Because she’s team captain. She relays the information from me to the other players.”

“And you ignore the other girls who ask for your help!”

“No ma’am. No matter what your daughter tells you, that’s far from the truth.”

“How can you expect any of us to believe that you’re unbiased based on the indecent way you and Abby have been carrying on in public?”

“What is she talking about?” Jake asked with wide eyes, shooting his head towards the pair of Marcus and Abby.

Abby scoffed. “Okay, now you’re just trying to spread rumors, Aurora.”

“No, I am trying to make sure Arkadia wins. And to make sure that my daughter doesn’t suffer for it just because of your boyfriend’s hormones.”

“The only person you’re trying to help is yourself!” Abby shot back.

“Okay, everybody, let’s take a deep breath,” Indra finally said, remaining her cool, calm self amongst the chaos.

“How about this? Since the concern is that I’m impartial. I just remove myself from the equation. Coach Shumway can choose the team captain.”

All eyes fell on Shumway whose eyes moments prior had been glazed over until the mention of his name brought them back to life.

“I’ll accept whatever decision he makes,” Marcus added.

“That’s acceptable,” Aurora said, smiling.

“Are you okay with that?” Principal Miller asked Shumway.

Shumway nodded. There was a brief moment until he said “Clarke remains team captain.”

“Unbelievable,” Aurora said.

“Alright, folks, well there you have it,” Principal Miller said, clapping his hands together like a judge slamming a gavel. “Email me with any other questions or concerns. And best of luck to our team at the game tomorrow evening!”

As the crowd dispersed, Aurora made it a point to exit out the door Marcus and Abby were nearest to. “I’ll remember this when it’s time for the school board to renew your contact, _Coach_. I know people.”

“Coach,” Indra called. “Walk with me please.”

Marcus gave Abby a look that said _What have we gotten ourselves into?_ as he followed Indra out the door.

***

Abby and Jake were the final two remaining in the conference room as Marcus followed Indra outside into the hallway. Abby turned to face her ex-husband who sighed. The looks on both of their faces said it hurt to even share the same common space.

“I signed the papers, too,” Abby said, her voice just barely above a whisper.

Jake’s eyes were downcast. “Okay.” He cleared his throat, his eyes scanning the floor. “Best of everything in your next chapter, Abby.”

“You too, Jake,” she said coldly. She couldn’t even find tears to cry. If she had shed a tear it would have instantly turned to ice from the stare she was giving him as he left the conference room. She couldn’t believe she spent nearly two decades loving a man that she could barely stand to look at now.


	13. Only One Way To Find Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mutual friend is a voice of reason for both Marcus and Abby; Marcus reveals a secret about his past.

Marcus eyed the drink that sat in front of him—an old fashioned, slightly clouded by a veil of smoke rolling off of the cigarettes from the gaggle of bikers gathered around the pool table. The stagnant stench of cigarettes dissipated momentarily as he took a sip of his whiskey. Conversations swirled around like the clouds of smoke but all he could hear were his thoughts. He tapped his foot along to a Fleetwood Mac song as he mulled over the day he’d just had. He had texted his friend Tor before he’d even pulled out of the parking lot at work, calling for an emergency meeting at their favorite smoky little dive bar Barney’s. Of course Tor, being one who never shied away from a gathering at the bar, and being a dedicated friend of Marcus’s since college, said he would be right over. It was half-past five so Marcus felt less guilty about having a second old fashioned. Being sure not to overdue it, he went ahead and paid his tab, reminding himself that he had a big game to coach the next day.

Tor arrived moments later, settled in next to Marcus, and ordered a Belgian white beer.

“So,” Tor began, sipping some froth from his beer and wiping the excess off his moustache, “is this emergency meeting about Abby signing her divorce papers or about Aurora Blake stirring up trouble at the school?”

Marcus blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what Tor had just said to him. “Wait, what was that first part?”

“That Abby signed her divorce papers?”

Marcus’s jaw slacked. After words failed him, his friend sucked air through his gritted teeth.

“Oops,” said Tor. “Sorry…”

Marcus shook his head “Abby tried telling me something earlier but we were interrupted. Then Clarke had a dentist appointment so we never had a chance to talk after the meeting.”

“Well, now is your chance, my man.”

“How the hell did you know all of this? The meeting happened an hour ago!”

Tor smirked behind his cold draft beer. “Word can spread fast in an hour in Arkadia, man. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

Marcus sighed and directed his eyes to the flat screen TV above their heads. The Reds were playing the Rays and Marcus’s eyes immediately glazed over. “How can anybody watch this sport?”

“You’re changing the subject. What was that meeting all about with the Blake woman, anyway?”

“She claims I’m playing favorites by having Clarke as team captain because I’m seeing her mom.”

“Well that’s utter horseshit,” Tor said with a scoff. “Her kid’s a little brat. Reese and the Blake girl, what’s her name? Aphrodite or something…”

“Octavia.”

“Yeah, Octavia. So Reese and Octavia used to go to the YMCA together and Octavia would always try to rule over the younger kids. Sounds like she gets her bossiness from her mom.”

Marcus shrugged. “Aurora’s shared with me a bit about her past. She hasn’t had it easy as a single mom of two. But that’s no excuse for how she’s acting over a team captain position.”

Tor laughed and slapped Marcus’s back. “You’re a better man than me, Marcus. I’d be fuming if I were you.”

Marcus chose not to comment on that because the thoughts that he had running through his head during that meeting were not very kind towards Ms. Blake. Inwardly, he was seething. What upset him the most wasn’t her accusations towards _his_ character, but towards Abby’s. She was just trying to move on after a miserable divorce but it seemed like the damn town just wouldn’t let her. Yet Jake was getting off practically scot-free. The double standard enraged Marcus.

Sometime later, maybe half an hour or so, while Marcus listened to Tor vent about his troubles with health insurance and co-payments for Reese’s medical bills, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Not to be rude while Tor was in the middle of his story, Marcus waited until he finished before he pulled out his phone. He’d gotten a text from Abby saying she and Clarke are finally home and that she’d love to find time to talk to him sometime tomorrow. Instead of texting her back, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and told Tor goodnight.

***

Abby folded the last bit of laundry she had before filling her arms up with linens to carry upstairs to her bedroom. The knock at the door startled her as she was halfway up the stairs. She grumbled before turning around to head back down to the first floor. She placed the clean clothes neatly on the sofa and rushed to the front door.

“Hey, Coach,” she said gleefully, pulling Marcus in for a tight hug and kiss. She could taste the whiskey on him and he smelled faintly of cigarette smoke but his musky cologne still overpowered it all in the most pleasant way.

“What are you doing here?” Abby asked as she closed the door behind them. “Don’t you have some rituals or something to do to prepare for tomorrow’s big game?”

Marcus snickered. “Nope. I don’t believe in superstition.”

“Mm. Says the man who admitted to me that he never changed his socks after a game.”

“Hey!” Marcus eyed her sternly. He pulled her against his build, his hands pressing into her sides. “I told you that in confidence,” he growled, leaning in to nip at her neck which caused a giggle to escape her.

“Shh. We need to be quiet. Clarke’s upstairs doing homework.”

“Sorry. I just, uh… I wanted to come by and see you. I heard you signed your divorce papers.”

“Jesus, this town has no secrets does it.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry, Marcus. I’d planned on telling you today but I wanted to do it in person, then we had that ridiculous meeting with Aurora and—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said in a voice that could calm any raging sea. “I stopped by Publix. Thought you’d need this.” He held up the reusable grocery bag that he’d been holding and then pulled out a pint of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “Use it to celebrate or drown your sorrows. I won’t judge either way because both feelings are completely acceptable right now.”

She brought a hand to her face, reacting with such strong emotions like he’d just proposed. His small acts of kindness and selflessness just made her fall for him even more. “Oh, Marcus… Thank you,” she said accepting the proffered pint of ice cream.

“Of course. The end of a marriage isn’t easy… I’ve been there.”

Abby paused. “Really?”

“You like how I snuck that in there?” he asked, grinning nervously at her.

“Real sneaky,” she said with a laugh. Then, “you never talk about it…”

“No. And I understand if you don’t want to either. Take your time to process. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

***

Abby stared blankly at a patient’s chart. Her eyes had scanned over the document several times but her brain didn’t comprehend a single thing that she read. She really should have took a sick day, but Abby Griffin never took a day off. 

“Abby?” a familiar voice asked, concern laced in his voice.

Abby turned to see Tor Lemkin dressed in his white uniform, a toolbelt around his waist. “Tor, hi…”

“Hi. Are you okay? You seemed kinda spaced out there.”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a shrug, overplaying it probably a bit too much. “Everything’s fine.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Tor said, jabbing at her ribs.

“Oh, whatever,” Abby said with a laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“Just here to fix a couple lights in the cafeteria that’s been flickering,” he said, gripping his toolbelt proudly.

She smiled. “How’s Reese?”

Thor chewed on his lip. “She’s okay. We have a name for it now: Best disease.”

“Oh no,” Abby said dolefully. Best disease was an incurable disease of the eye, but there were hopes for a treatment for the future using gene therapy if research continued to evolve.

“Yeah. But at least now we know… She loved the purple barrette you got her for her birthday, by the way! I haven’t had the chance to thank you yet. She wears it everywhere.”

Abby beamed. “I’m glad. I’m sorry we couldn’t make it to her party. I was swamped with work.”

“That’s alright. Look, I gotta go but… Are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

_What a loaded question_ , Abby thought. She sighed heavily. “Yes… And no… I don’t know. I’m sure you’ve heard the news.” Tor nodded silently so Abby continued. “It’s not that I’m sad about the end of my marriage, I’m just sad that I _had_ to end it. I was raised to treat marriage with respect. I always thought I’d be married for forever. I thought I’d settle down with Jake and we’d grow old together and die holding one another just like in The Notebook. But I’d been thinking about what Marcus told me…”

“I hope that’s good…”

“Well, he told me it’s okay to be sad and then I realized… I haven’t truly been sad at all. I’ve cried from the stress and aggravation, but I haven’t truly grieved the end of my marriage. I almost feel like I… I don’t know, like I skipped a step?”

“You have the right to feel what you want, when you want. I understand how scary it is. Now you’re officially available and that shines a different light. But you also have the right to do what you want. So, Abby… What do you want?”

Abby stared through Tor as she recounted all the memories of her parents showing affection, publicly and unabashedly. Her heart warmed and broke all at the same time. “I want to hold hands in the mall,” she said decidedly. “My parents used to do that all the time. We would stroll through the shops and my dad held onto my mom so tightly… It was like he never wanted to let her go.” She smiled, blinking back the tears from her dark brown eyes. “I want that.”

“And who do you want that with?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m scared, Tor. Marcus is a _great_ guy. I have strong feelings for him but… What if he isn’t _the_ guy. I can’t have another heartbreak.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Tor said, smiling softly. “Catch you later.”

Abby watched with wringed hands as Tor turned the corner in the hallway, following the sign that read CAFETERIA. He was right. There was only one way to find out and that thought caused her pulse to race like a freight train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to all for sticking with me! kudos and comments make my day :)


	14. Soccer, Love, & Other Important Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an electric energy in Arkadia; it's the end of the fall soccer season and Arkadia is facing their longtime rival, Mount Weather, in the semi-finals. Can they overcome the alleged powerful team to face Eden High in the finals? And will Coach Kane be able to hold himself together despite the nerves of the final game day? Later, Clarke receives a surprise, much to the ire of her mother Abby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to my friends for answering my soccer questions and beta reading! and thank you to everyone for sticking with me and this story despite the long periods between updates. love you all <3

It was late November in the little town of Arkadia and among the chill in the air there was something else: electric anticipation. The wind blew a gentle breeze and the leaves rustled and scattered beneath the now barren trees. Marcus stood from the sidelines of the soccer field and watched as the girls dispersed at the call from the referee. The game was on. This was not just any game—it was the semi-finals against Mount Weather, a team that Arkadia had a longstanding rivalry with. If they won this match, it would secure them for the finals. From what he had heard, they were a force to be reckoned with. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart at the sound of possibly the last whistle of the season. No, he couldn’t think like that. They were going to win.

Out of his peripheral he saw Indra taking a seat at the bleachers, her tween daughter Gaia at her side. He turned his head and waved at the pair and he was reminded of his previous conversation with Indra. “Don’t let her drag you down, Marcus,” she had told him, referring to Aurora Blake. “You’re doing wonderful. You’ve done more for that team than the last coach did in his decade at Arkadia High.” Those words made him swell with pride even still as he looked back on their conversation. She also assured him that Aurora just could not accept that there was someone else on the team that could rival her daughter’s talents, not to mention Aurora was, put it simply, a total gossip. He knew he wasn’t in the wrong but having that reassurance from Indra—his superior, friend, and someone he greatly admired—boosted his self-confidence one hundred fold.

A few rows down and to the left from Indra sat Abby. She caught Marcus’s eye almost immediately; he always easily spotted her among the crowd of spectators. He smiled at the sight of her and she blew him a quick kiss. Pathetically, he responded with a casual wave as he was too surprised to respond any other way. His face burned with humiliation as he returned his focus to the game, feeling like a fool.

They had a solid placement, he thought. The girls had been performing exceedingly well their last few games and practices had went swimmingly, much to Marcus’s surprise given the situation with Clarke and Octavia. It had seemed that the girls had grown closer lately. Marcus couldn’t help but laugh to himself at how hot and cold those girls could be.

Clarke stood as center midfielder. She was doing an impressive job shielding the ball as she dribbled, expertly passing it to the attacking midfielder, Lexa. With one simple misstep, Lexa lost the ball and Mount Weather’s team headed for their goal box. Harper, the goalie, readied herself but Clarke was quickly on the heels of Mount Weather’s ball-carrier and pressed until she recovered the ball. She turned, found her opening, and dribbled past Mount Weather’s defender before hurriedly yet perfectly securing a pass to Raven who just barely scored a goal. 1-0.

Although Marcus was sweating the first part of the game, after their first goal, the rest of the game went smoothly. It was obvious that after losing their shot at a goal early into the first half, Mount Weather’s team had already started to lose their enthusiasm. It certainly didn’t help that their coach, Cage Wallace, spent every breath demeaning each of them, shouting expletives from the top of his lungs and hurling offensive insults whenever the ball-carrier lost control to Arkadia or someone missed a goal. Marcus gritted his teeth, almost willing to take the potential yellow card just to go set Wallace in his place and tell him that was no way to talk to a child. Before he convinced himself to do it, Indra had already made her way over to him and with a few stern words and a glare that could make a grown man cry, Wallace straightened up his act the remainder of the game. Marcus was thankful not only for those young girls’ sakes but also so he could get back to focusing on the game.

The game ended 4-1 favoring Arkadia. The only goal that Mount Weather managed to make was simply out of luck and the fact that Harper was too busy eyeing a young man named Monty in the bleachers. Marcus knew his name was Monty because she talked about him all practice, every practice. _Young love_ , Marcus thought to himself and chuckled.

The Arkadia supporters in the bleachers rejoiced though everyone remained somewhat reserved, still on pins and needles for the final match. After a two hour break, Arkadia would return to face Eden High.

Following the end of the first game of the day, Marcus called the team over and addressed them alongside Coach Shumway. He expressed how proud he was of their performance on the field and acknowledged each of them positively and also gave some constructive feedback like he did with every game. Compliment, criticize, compliment—that was the order of constructive coaching. “Just one more game to go. Rest, rehydrate, and grab a light snack. We’ve got this!”

As the girls dispersed, it was as if they hadn’t heard a single word that he’d just said. Raven, the queen of mischief, rounded up Clarke, Lexa, and Octavia on the field. She lined the girls up side to side in the goal box, their backs facing her. She then retrieved a soccer ball and kicked it as hard as she could right in the direction of the girls. Apparently, as Marcus overheard just before he went sprinting over with fire in his eyes, Raven wanted to test her aim by hitting the girls’ butts with the ball.

“What are you doing?” Marcus asked, his voice raised in frustration. They should have been eating fruit or light protein, not trying to injure one another with the ball.

“We’re just havin’ some fun, Coach,” Raven said with a shrug, readying the ball for another shot.

Marcus gritted his teeth and quickly kicked the ball out of Raven’s reach. “Are you serious? Look, I can’t want this more than you all do. You played hard out there and I know you’re tired, which means you should be resting and not goofing off. We’ve come too far now for you to start slacking off now.” Marcus sighed and eyed each of them. He licked his lips as he contemplated his next words. “You would think the prospect of having to play a 60 minute game would be enough for you to want to rest but hey, what do I know? If you girls have this all figured out, then what do you need me for?” Marcus blew out air in frustration and retreated to his office. _Unbelievable_ , he thought.

He opened the mini fridge that sat atop his desk, grabbed a soda, and slammed it back shut. He popped open the soda top and took a long swig, letting out an exhalation of pleasure after swallowing the fizzy beverage. He plopped down into his swivel chair and rubbed his forehead. He could feel a tension headache creeping up on him like a thief in the night. Coaching soccer had been one of the most rewarding things he had done in a long while but it was also, at times, extremely difficult and frustrating.

After a couple deep breathing exercises (Abby had introduced him to the practice which he laughed off at first) and unwinding to some classical music, he decided to check his phone. He had two texts from Abby asking if he was okay and if he needed anything. As he began typing a response, he heard a knock on the door, then watched as it opened.

“Hey! I was just getting ready to text you back,” Marcus said to Abby as she walked into his office, a concerned look on her face.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her tone light but dark eyes filled with worry.

“Yeah… No,” he finally answered honestly, prompted by the pressing look on her face at the moment of his dishonesty. A heavy silence filled the room before he finally spoke once more. “We’ve made it this far and the kids have worked so hard, I just want to see their hard work pay off with a win. They deserve it.”

Abby nodded in agreement, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You’re a great coach, Marcus,” she told him, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek, stroking his beard. “But don’t forget your motto…”

“Treat every game the same,” he said, completing her thought.

Abby nodded in silent agreement and smiled softly up at him.

He drew a hand, placed it over hers, and grazed his thumb over her delicate skin. “I needed you here,” he spoke in a hoarse whisper.

 _Treat it just the same as any other game_ , he has told himself, repeating it over and over—his mantra for the evening. It was just another game. But despite it all, he still craved this win, not for himself, but for the kids who, despite their shortcomings such as earlier with the balls-to-the-butt game, have worked extremely hard this season. A win in the finals would be just what they deserved.

Once they made their way back to the field, Marcus and Abby found all of the kids resting, talking quietly amongst themselves as they snacked on nuts and fruit and rehydrated. Some stood and twisted their bodies from side to side, others sat on the grass with their legs stretched out. A smile spread across Marcus’s face, seeing as they listened to him after all.

“I handled it, Coach,” Clarke said coolly as they approached. A derisive scoff could be heard from Octavia who had a mouthful of mixed fruit, her legs kicked back on the bench.

“Great job, Clarke. There’s those strong leadership skills I want to see.” Marcus placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, smiling proudly.

With the warning that the game was about to start, Marcus beckoned the girls to group together. “Okay, this is it. Win or lose, we’ve had an amazing season and I couldn’t have handpicked a better team to coach. I’m so proud of each and every one of you. Now get out there and show Eden High who’s boss.”

The kids found their usual positions save for Emori who was subbing for Echo for she suffered a tumble towards the end of the first game of the day, resulting in a twisted ankle (and a very disgruntled Echo). Sixty minutes. In sixty minutes, Marcus’s first season as a soccer coach would be over and so would his extreme anxiety over the match. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as the referee blew the whistle and only then did Marcus realize he had been holding his breath. _Breathe_ , he told himself.

Arkadia began with the kickoff and Clarke, being team captain, had requested to kickoff. She swiftly passed the ball off to Raven who dribbled as far as she could before being pressed too hard by an opposing player. They struggled for the ball but eventually Raven found her opening and made a pass to Emori who swung her leg back and performed a banana kick, the ball slipping right past the goalie’s fingers and into the box. Marcus jumped at the sight and cheered. “Yes!” he exclaimed from the sidelines with a clap of his hands.

Since Arkadia scored, Eden kicked off next; their team captain and best player on the team, whose name Marcus knew was Josephine, kicked the ball off to a teammate who Marcus could tell immediately was a fan of hogging the ball. She carried the ball down the field, ignoring her openings for passes to teammates that were better lined up for a goal. As Octavia pressed, seeking her chance to intercept, the player finally passed back to Josephine, who performed an extremely impressive Maradona turn, evading Raven’s attempts to intercept, and shooting the ball right into the goal, leaving poor Harper reeling from the quickness of it all. _Well shit,_ Marcus thought, a pit forming in his stomach. It was 1-1.

There wasn’t another goal for a while, leaving Marcus clenching his jaw and digging his fingernails into his palms as he watched the possession of the ball change back and forth between Arkadia and Eden. Because of the small town’s silly rivalry, everyone was more concerned about Mount Weather, but Marcus could see that Eden was truly the team to fear.

The first half ended with the teams still 1-1. During halftime, the team, and Marcus, were eerily quiet in contemplation and uncertainty. It was anyone’s game at this point and everyone knew that. The kids snacked on oranges and rehydrated, some once again doing some light stretches. Just before halftime ended, Marcus finally spoke. “Just remember, girls,” he began, “no matter what happens, win or lose, I’m proud of you.” His words evoked a few nods and smiles from the team before returning to the field.

At the sound of the whistle, Marcus’s heart began to pound. He turned to see Abby on the edge of her seat, literally, but despite her body language, when their eyes met, she smiled at him. Next, she mouthed three words that he held onto the remainder of the game (he studied her lips so much, reading them had become like a second language to him). “Hope is everything,” she mouthed, and he smiled then, his face mirroring hers, despite the worried line in his brow still ghosting his features. Something about her optimism and words of encouragement grounded him and he closed his eyes and mouthed “thank you” before returning to the game. By the time he turned his attention back to the field (he had been looking at Abby for longer than he realized, but, who could blame him?) Arkadia had made their way across the field and Octavia performed a scissors fake, found her opening, and scored, making the score 2-1 favoring Arkadia. The crowd roared. The energy sent chills down Marcus’s forearms as his eyes scanned the full bleachers with glee. His brown eyes went a little misty at the sight.

After the next kickoff by Eden, Josephine passed the ball off to a teammate who performed a nutmeg, passing the ball between Emori’s legs. Shortly after, she passed the ball off to another teammate who kicked the ball towards the goal box. Marcus could hear the audience gasp as the ball flew into the air, and as if in slow motion, Harper jumped and blocked the shot. Saved. Marcus exhaled.

Arkadia wouldn’t be so lucky the next attempt. Following a failed push pass by Raven, Josephine intercepted the ball. “Lock on!” Clarke called in attempts to get Raven to stay on Josephine tightly. Raven contained her but following a short struggle, Josephine found her opening and passed the ball off to their second midfielder who kicked the ball into the goal box. Harper dove but the ball flew just above her head, sinking into the net. The two teams were tied up once again, 2-2.

Marcus took a swig of Gatorade but his mouth still felt dry. His eyes fell to the clock. Reason told him it was fine, but his great want for the kids to win still sent anxiety rushing through him. They were tied up and now Arkadia has the ball, with the clock quickly ticking, if they played their cards right, that could end up in their favor. The kids, also watching the time, did just that. They held the ball, swiftly passing when they found an opening, everyone working together to run the clock down just enough. Despite a shoulder charge, Octavia flicked the ball to Clarke who, while opening her hips up to the goal, examined the goalie’s position and struck the ball into the net as it grazed past the fingers of Eden High’s goalie. Marcus fell to his knees in relief. They were then 3-2 favoring Arkadia. Following some deliberation, the referee examined the time remaining on the clock, and finally made the call.

At the blow of the final whistles, spectators erupted with screams as the match was called. The bleachers, sidelines, bench, and field radiated with joy for Arkadia (save for the Eden High supporters). Families hugged, couples kissed, kids whooped and hollered for their hometown team. The bench cleared out as the remainder of the team, and Shumway, ran to the field to celebrate the win. Marcus pumped his fist in the air and clapped, shouting his praises. His eyes met Clarke’s which were blue as the ocean and just as salty as they filled with tears of joy. She crossed the field and before he knew it her arms were hooked around his neck. He let out a sound of surprise and then hugged her back. “You did it!” he exclaimed, his hands framing her face as he looked down at her with pride. She turned to find the rest of the team joining around them. With great joy and confidence, she turned and addressed them all. “No,” she said, correcting him, “We all did it!” 

Marcus beamed, so extremely proud of how far Clarke had come and how much she had grown as a player, as a leader, and as a person. As he began his speech to the girls about how no matter how rough of a start you might have or what hand you’re dealt, with hard work and determination, you can succeed. Later, he went into a spiel about how no matter whether you win or lose, it’s about the friendships you make along the way. In the middle of his speech about found family through sports teams, the girls started to slowly back away, suspicious smirks forming on the majority of faces. A giggle erupted from Harper just as soon as Marcus felt a cold, stinging sensation on his skin. What Marcus didn’t see, and what the girls did, was Abby, Indra, and Charles toting the water cooler, readying it for drop-off right over Marcus’s head. He jumped, shouted, and shook all over as he quickly removed the ice cubes from beneath his shirt. His body shocked and skin numb from the cold, Marcus was unable to process exactly what had happened until Abby rounded the corner, doubled over in a fit of laughter. He set his jaw and stared at her with an evil eye. “You’ll pay for this!” he shouted at her before shaking his drenched mop of hair, wetting her and the team of girls—who in Marcus’s opinion were all accomplices to the crime.

Suddenly the girls began to disperse, searching for their parents or guardians to be congratulated and greeted with flowers and camera lenses. Marcus frowned and shouted at their backs. “Hey, I never finished my speech!” A few heads turned and called out a “goodnight, Coach” or “see you in class on Monday” but most of them ignored him, too engrossed in their phones, likely bragging on social media about their win. Marcus threw his hands up in defeat. “Great job, tonight,” he called, though he was speaking to no one.

From beside him he heard a giggle and Abby snaked her arms around his waist. “Ugh, you’re soaked,” she said, but she never pulled away.

“Yeah. I don’t know how that happened,” he deadpanned.

“Do they do that to you in class, too?” Abby asked curiously, referring to the girls walking away from Marcus as he was midsentence.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “I could be in the middle of sharing the meaning of life but when that bell rings, they’re out of there. Drives me nuts.”

Marcus could feel Abby laughing against his chest. “Mr. Kane,” she began, looking up at him now, “what _is_ the meaning of life?”

Marcus comically raised a brow. “Well, it’s—”

“Kane!” Charles Pike erupted from behind them, Shumway and Indra at his side. “Congrats, man! I knew y’all could do it.”

“Wasn’t all me. This one saved my ass with the Blake parent,” Marcus said, pointing at Shumway while also deflecting the compliment. “We have a group of headstrong but talented girls, too.”

“You’ve done amazingly well with them,” Indra added.

“Thank you, my friend,” Marcus said, shaking her hand. “I would hug you, but… you know.” Marcus motioned towards his soaked clothes, still dripping.

“You need to be more careful,” Indra said with a mischievous smirk.

“Yeah, Kane, those flying water coolers are dangerous,” Pike said, cracking himself up with his own joke and earning a laugh from Abby in the process.

“Oh is that how it happened? It grew wings and flew?” Marcus asked.

“Crazy shit, man,” Pike said. “Night! And congrats again!”

Marcus bid them all goodnight and soon it was just him and Abby once more. As they meandered towards the parking lot, Marcus felt Abby’s fingers brush against his palm once, then again, and then again. He first thought it was just an accident but come the third time, he finally took the hint and took her hand in his. She smiled up at him, pleased. It had come as a shock to him. Holding hands was such a little thing but coming from the woman who didn’t want to be seen having dinner with him because of wagging tongues, it left him surprised. Arkadia was a major soccer town and nearly everyone attended the games, _and_ nearly everyone was still in the parking lot congregating as they approached Abby’s vehicle hand-in-hand.

***

“I’ve been thinking… about what you said,” Abby said once they reached her SUV.

“I meant it,” Marcus said earnestly, peering at her from under his brows. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

“I’m sick of waiting,” she said suddenly and, feeling emboldened, planted her hands on his bristly cheeks and pulled him down to her for a kiss. She heard him try to speak but his words were lost against her mouth. Their lips met, soft and sweet—an invitation for more. Soon his arms were around her, strong and sure like the oak tree that loomed over the parking lot. She knotted her fists in his soggy, drenched shirt and pulled him against her. She felt him smile against her and then a soft groan escaped him. Half the town was in the parking lot and all eyes were certainly on them by then but Abby chose not to care.

As they slowly disentangled, the sound of a honking horn drew their attention to the once empty parking space beside Abby’s SUV which was now being filled with a sparkling brand new sports car. To Abby’s dismay, out stepped Jake, a prideful grin on his face, and the key fob in his hand. His grin quickly faded at the sight of Marcus’s arm wrapped around Abby’s waist, his hand hovering tantalizingly close to her ass. 

“Where’s Clarke?” Jake asked flatly.

“Dad!” Clarke shouted, bursting out from a crowd of teens before either adult could answer his question. She bolted towards him, nearly knocking him down as she hugged him tightly. One look at Marcus’s face told Abby he was overcome with jealousy. She saw their special moment after the game when Clarke hugged his neck, the pride on his face, his eyes glistened with tears under the stadium lights. He wanted a relationship with Clarke outside of academics and sports, he had told Abby over the phone one night. He admitted he understood it would take time but confessed to her he worried it would never happen for them. She reminded him that Clarke liked him and she would come around. It was a unique and difficult situation for her—for all of them.

“Whose car?” Abby asked Jake as Clarke ogled the leather interior.

“Clarke’s,” he said proudly.

“Wait, really?” Clarke’s eyes grew wide and a large smile split her features.

“Yeah, of course! My winning daughter deserves a car. You’re 16 after all.”

Clarke squealed. “Thank you so much, Dad!”

Infuriated and speechless, Abby’s mouth gaped. Marcus stood idly by her side, watching her as she watched him, and she could see he was willing her with a raise of his brow to choose her next words carefully.

“You wanna drive it home?” Jake asked Clarke.

“Yeah! Can I, Mom?”

Abby chewed on her lip and forced a strained smile. Not wanting to be the bad guy and kill Clarke’s high after such a great day, she nodded. “Sure. See you at home.”

“Awesome! Bye Mom! Bye Coach!”

And just like that her baby girl was gone, once again her love being bought by her father. This time it was a car, but there had been times before that, as well. There was the iPhone when she was nine—a device that Abby had previously said Clarke was too young to have—which Jake bought her after he forgot to pick her up from dance class (something Clarke stuck with for only a short amount of time); he bought her a trampoline when she was eleven after he forgot to call her on her birthday when he was away for work. Abby always told Jake a trampoline was far too dangerous. She’d seen way too many cases of pediatric broken bones at the hospital from trampoline injuries. He ignored her request. The man had always been so engrossed in his work, so focused on his duties as an employee, that he would often neglect his duties as a husband and father, only to later try and make it up to them with extravagant gifts, playing genie instead of Dad. He meant well, Abby knew he did; he was the type to get over-excited and make impulsive purchases in hopes to make up for lost time with his daughter, meanwhile Abby was left being the mean (responsible) parent, banning the iPhone after a week or the trampoline after three days and an ER visit. It frustrated her to no-end the times he would go over her head and make decisions and it had been a major issue for them their whole lives as parents. She chewed at her lip as she watched the tail lights fade off into the distant night, her heart breaking over yet another lost battle.

“You okay?” Marcus asked, rubbing his hand over her lower back.

Abby blinked away the tears that fought to fall and smiled stiffly. “Yes… So, how are we celebrating?”

“Drinks at Barney’s? I could use one.”

“You and me both. Meet you there,” she said, pecking his cheek before climbing into her vehicle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and helps motive me to write more!! thank you to those who reach out with feedback, positive or constructive <3


	15. In Due Time...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake continues to push Abby's buttons; Jake shows a newfound interest in Clarke outside of soccer; Abby and Marcus spend a lowkey evening together where Marcus reveals a secret about his past.
> 
> Sharing this chapter earlier than planned in honor of Sandy's birthday!!! It's a little heavy so be prepared. Anyway!! Happy birthday, Sandy, and thanks for being such a wonderful friend as well as a supportive reader! Everybody go check out her fanfic Between Love & Politics!
> 
> Forewarning, in the notes is a trigger/content warning that is also a spoiler. If you don't want to be spoiled and have no trigger concerns, read past the beginning notes! If you do have trigger concerns, please be sure to read over the notes first. Thanks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content/trigger/spoiler warning:  
> *  
> *  
> *  
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> this chapter has a heavy moment where infantile death is described.

On Monday morning while Abby was cutting up fruit for a breakfast smoothie, she heard a quick knock at the front door before it swung open.

“Hey,” Jake said as he appeared. “Is Clarke ready yet?”

“Almost,” Abby said flatly, pointedly keeping her answers short and her eyes on the fruit. Her tone could have frozen water.

“So, uh, you never texted me the pictures of Clarke at the finals. I always send you the pictures I take as soon as the match ends.”

Abby sighed, rolled her eyes, and slammed the knife down onto the granite countertop. “Well, I’m sorry, Jake, but I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

Jake’s brow furrowed. “What? Boy troubles?”

“Yes. _You_.”

“ _Me_?”

“Yes. You bought _our_ daughter a car without my permission. I should be used to you going behind my back by now but this is the extreme.”

“She’s sixteen! And I shouldn’t have to ask permission to do something for my own daughter.”

“She’s _our_ daughter, Jake. And we’re supposed to be _co_ -parenting, remember? You shouldn’t be making decisions like this without consulting me.”

“Co-parenting,” Jake parroted with a scoff. “Oh, please. You don’t want to co-parent. You don’t even want me to have a say in anything. You just want me to submit all my plans ahead of time for your approval. You’re saying the only way I can be right is to agree with you.”

“It’s not a matter of right or wrong, Jake! I’m just asking you to work with me—not against me.”

“You know what your problem is, Abby?”

“No. I’m going to stop you right there because I don’t have a problem. You’re the one with the problem because you can’t see the issue here so let me break it down for you. Buying a car is a _huge_ purchase—and a big moment! A moment that I would have liked to have been included in, too.” Abby paused, letting her words sink in. “It felt like a huge slap in the face.”

Jake halted and rasped his palm against his chin. Before he could speak, Clarke entered the kitchen, her backpack flung over one shoulder, dressed and ready for school.

“Ready, kiddo?” Jake asked Clarke.

“Yep. Bye, Mom,” Clarke said, kissing her mom on her cheek that was still flushed hot with anger.

“Have a good day at school,” Abby called as Clarke headed for the car.

“Just send me the pictures sometime today,” Jake said with his crystal blue eyes downcast. He always hated to admit when he was in the wrong.

Abby nodded at his request and returned to preparing the fruit for her smoothie. As she listened to him leave, she called out once more. “You can’t buy her love, Jake.”

The rest of the day was spent by Abby tidying up around the home while taking intermittent breaks to catch up on her DVR. She was in the middle of a new episode of her favorite reality TV show when Clarke texted her asking if she could stay at her dad’s for a few days. _That’s odd_ , thought Abby. Jake never kept Clarke for more than what was necessary due to his work schedule, especially during the weekday. Nevertheless, Abby wrote back confirming that Clarke could stay at her dad’s.

A while later, while Abby finished up her chicken salad for lunch, her phone began to ring. Smiling as she looked down at the name, she swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Can I book an appointment with you?”

Abby grinned into the phone. “Well, Mr. Kane, are you due for your vaccinations?”

“Something like that,” he said with a throaty chuckle. “Listen, I have a problem… It’s about our date Saturday night.”

Abby fell silent, dread filling the pit of her stomach and disappointment already creeping into her soul. She swallowed hard, wondering why he would need to cancel. They had been really looking forward to having a nice intimate dinner together.

“I can’t decide on salmon or steak…”

“Marcus,” she said in a laugh, breathing a sigh of relief. She could hear him cackling over the other line and if he had been in her vicinity she would have smacked him.

“Salmon or steak? Help me out, here.”

“I’ve never been known to turn down a steak. Medium.”

“Absolutely. Any other instructions you’d like to give me?” he asked, his voice laced with something less than pure intentions.

Abby blushed and heat pooled around her center. Despite herself, she breathed a quiet laugh, feeling almost nervous at the thought. “I’ll think on it,” she said, grinning.

“Okay. Planning period’s almost over and I have some copying to finish up. Can I see you tonight?”

“Of course. See you tonight. Bye.”

Despite a lot of lowkey dates together—gym sessions, movie nights, dinner at the pizza parlor, or drinks at Barneys—they hadn’t really taken the time to schedule a nice date since Marcus surprised her with a chef-catered dinner in the beautiful backyard of that old Victorian home on Promenade Street (though even then their evening was cut short thanks to Jake Griffin). Their plans fell through for the past weekend when Marcus was supposed to cook her dinner because she was called into work on Sunday. So, they finally rescheduled to a quiet date night at Marcus’s place on Saturday, which Abby was elated for. In the meantime, she also looked forward to seeing him later that evening, knowing he would show up with some kind of takeout or a pizza in his hands and they would pick a film or series to watch until one of them started to doze off and decide it was time to part ways for the night. She cherished even the simplest moments she could share with that man.

The end of the school day rolled around and Abby was cleaning up the kitchen when Clarke entered the house, a bright smile splitting her features.

“Hi, Mom!”

“Hi,” Abby said, surprise laced in her voice. “What’s got you in such a great mood?”

“Dad’s taking me to an art gallery tomorrow after school.” Clarke pulled off her overstuffed backpack from her shoulder and plopped it onto the nearby barstool.

Abby blinked rapidly and spun her head to face her daughter, wondering if she heard her correctly. “ _Really_? I thought your dad worked on Tuesdays?” she asked, resting her elbows momentarily on the counter, her hands steepled under her chin.

“He cleared his schedule for me,” Clarke said with a smile. “Me, him, and Becca are going to the Monet gallery.”

Abby strained a smile at the mention of Becca and clutched the countertop until she was white knuckled, choosing her next words carefully. “That’s… so nice,” she said between gritted teeth, willing the disappointment out of her voice. “Monet’s your favorite.” She refrained from adding what she wanted to ask: “Since when did Becca start hanging around so much?” Of course, she was Jake’s fiancée and the mother of his future child and if Abby wanted Marcus to eventually have a relationship with Clarke, Becca deserved a chance, too.

“Yeah,” Clarke said absently, seemingly unaffected by Abby’s reaction (or rather non-reaction) as she typed away in her phone. “Well, Dad’s waiting outside. I’m gonna go upstairs to grab my stuff.”

Abby nodded and returned her attention to cleaning. She put away the remaining dishes into the cabinet that had sat sparkling clean in the dishwasher all afternoon. She retrieved a bottle of cleaning spray from the lower cabinet beneath the sink and smiled fondly as she remembered the day Marcus had stopped by to fix her leaky pipe, both of them becoming soaked in the process but still managing to share a tender moment in the early days of their friendship. She twisted the nozzle of the cleaning spray to “open” and began spraying the counter, her mind half on Marcus while half on Becca and Jake. Time had gotten away from her as she let her imagination run wild, the possibilities of Clarke becoming closer to Becca (she was younger, after all), choosing to move in with Jake and Becca, leaving Abby to die alone. (Okay, maybe that was a bit ridiculous but at the time Abby wasn’t considering logic or reason).

“Mom, I think that’s enough spray,” Clarke said with a half-laugh, an unsettled look on her face.

Abby’s eyes darted to Clarke and then back to the countertop, noticing the plethora of layers of foam and she chuckled, her face reddening. “I cooked chicken for lunch. You can never be too careful fending off salmonella,” she said half-truthfully. She had already scrubbed the countertops after lunch, but when Abby had something on her mind, she often turned to cleaning. She grabbed a sponge from the sink and swept it across the countertop which was lathered in the foam, corralling some stray crumbs into the trash can left over from a prior snack. “I wanted to speak with you before you leave,” Abby said as Clarke gathered the last bit of belongings she planned to take with her to Jake’s.

“Yeah?”

“We need to establish some rules for your car.”

Clarke groaned and began to pick up her overnight bag, making a beeline for the door.

“Your dad and I will cover insurance until you’re 18. Gas and basic maintenance is on you. You can drive it only to school, to practice, to get gas, or run basic errands with parent approval. No friends allowed.”

“Are you kidding me?” Clarke asked mid-scoff. “What’s the point in having a car then?”

“The car is a responsibility and you need to show me that you can handle it. Keep making good choices and we’ll revisit it but until then, those are the rules.”

“I get that you’re mad at Dad but why are you punishing me?” Clarke blurted.

Abby’s face fell and she narrowed her eyes which flashed a red hot anger.

Panic rose in Clarke’s face. “I… I’m sorry,” she stuttered.

“Mhm,” said Abby.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah. Have fun.”

“Bye,” Clarke mumbled as she headed out the door.

***

“Sushi!” Marcus called as Abby opened the door, holding up the take-out container beside his face.

Abby’s mouth dropped. “You’re my favorite. Have I told you that you’re my favorite?”

Marcus huffed out a laugh as she took the take-out container and side stepped to let him inside. He bent down and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before she turned the corner into the kitchen.

“Whose turn is it to pick a movie?”

“Mine,” Abby said, a smirk ghosting her face as she divvied up the sushi and laid it out onto two plates.

Marcus cocked a suspicious eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm,” she replied, casting a sidelong glance.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that…”

Abby floundered to hide her smile, her composure cracking as she met his gaze. “Okay, maybe it’s your turn to pick,” she said, throwing her hands up in surrender.

“Thank God. I need a break from true crime. It’s so depressing.”

“Hey! That documentary about Mary Vincent was touching.”

“Sure…” Marcus grabbed two wine glasses from the overhead cabinet, feeling much more comfortable in Abby’s home than he had the first time he had visited when she needed help fixing her sink. He found it funny how things could change.

“Okay, so what’s your pick for us tonight, then?” Abby asked as she opened the utensil drawer to grab some forks.

“Schindler’s List,” Marcus stated casually, retrieving a bottle of wine from the wine fridge.

“You can’t be serious,” she said wryly.

“What?” he asked, turning to face Abby.

“Talk about depressing!”

“Okay, maybe depressing wasn’t the word I was looking for…”

“And it’s so _long_.”

“Do you have other plans?” Marcus asked with a knowing smirk. He knew full well there was no other place she would rather be.

“No,” Abby mumbled with a slow roll of her eyes.

Marcus snorted as he helped her carry their dinner to the living room, setting the glasses and the bottle of wine on the coffee table as Abby placed the plates of food on the ottoman. Marcus found the remote and clicked the TV on and it lit up the dim room with the flashing, intrusive blue light. Meanwhile Abby reached for the bottle of wine, her phone in one hand and an angry expression on her face. She shut off her phone and tossed it aside, filling her wine glass to the brim.

“That’s a heavy pour,” Marcus said with knitted brows.

She looked at him mutely, picked up her glass, and gently dispensed the excess liquid into Marcus’s glass.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head but despite that, she spoke. “I just can’t believe Jake.”

Marcus changed positions on the couch, his chest facing her then, ready to listen to whatever she needed to say.

She laughed sardonically. “You know, there was a point in the divorce process where I thought—naively—that once the divorce was final, my life would be less complicated… I just can’t believe he bought Clarke a car without my consent.”

Marcus nodded intently as she aired her frustrations, rubbing his hand over her bare thigh. He looked forward to their date night on Saturday where they had agreed to dress up for the occasion, but he still loved seeing her in that casual state of t-shirt, shorts, messy bun, and no makeup. He found her incredibly, naturally sexy. Her white v-neck exposed a tempting glimpse of the valley of her breasts which Marcus fought to divert his eyes from. Returning his mind back to the serious topic at hand, he finally spoke. “Divorce is always complicated, especially with kids involved, I’m sure. It wasn’t right Jake did that behind your back and I don’t blame you for being upset. You should have been involved in that purchase.”

Abby smiled softly, her chocolate brown eyes glinting with joy from his reassurance. “Do you want to talk about your divorce?” she asked, her forehead creased.

Marcus knew they had to have the conversation at some point and despite all the nights mulling it over in his mind, imagining how the conversation would play out, his jaw slacked and his heart still palpitated as a moment of silent contemplation unreeled between the pair. He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat and picked at a piece of dead skin on his finger. Inhaling deeply, he allowed his mind to open that often shut (and locked) box. He nodded his head slowly. “It’s not a very long story. Her name was Alexis. We were high school sweethearts. I was a soccer player, she was a volleyball player. We dated all through high school. A few months before graduation, she tells me she’s pregnant. Her dad wanted to murder me,” he said, chuckling fondly at the memory as if he had just told a joke about airplanes. “We got married. I guess you could say it was a shotgun wedding. Five months into her pregnancy, she loses the baby.” He swallowed hard, blinking the tears from his eyes. He felt a comforting hand fall onto his and grasped him tightly. He continued. “The cord was wrapped around her neck,” he croaked. A sympathetic noise of somber escaped Abby—somewhere between a gasp and a sigh. He licked his lips and rubbed his wet eyes. “Our marriage didn’t survive the grief. We lasted maybe four months after we lost the baby.”

“Marcus… I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry.”

He placed his hand over hers and ran his thumb absentmindedly over her skin. “It was mostly her parents that complicated things. Alexis just wanted peace. They were the ones that pushed her into going to court, the alimony, and so forth.

We knew we weren’t right for one another. We were the perfect pair in high school but, as adulthood approached, we had different plans for the future. We had discussed breaking up but then she found out she was pregnant. I wanted to do the right thing so I married her. We were just kids,” he said under his breath in amazement. “I’m sorry I hadn’t talked about it yet. It’s… heavy. Definitely not first or second date material.”

Abby smiled and placed a hand on his torso. “That’s okay. I’m just glad you told me. I want us to be able to share everything with one another.”

Momentarily, Marcus was lost in her eyes. They were like two pools of milk chocolate fondue that he wanted to swim in all day and night. He drew a hand and caressed her face, her clean and soft cheek rising with her smile as he drew nearer. “Me too,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly but filled with unmistakable adoration. Their eyes danced from one another’s gaze to their lips as they drew closer, a magnetic pull drawing them to one another. Heat rose from Marcus’s stomach to his chest. He honed in on her lips, tempting and sweet—not ignoring the fragrant and hypnotic scent of jasmine in her hair as their lips met. She lolled her head back and his probing tongue deepened the kiss. She kissed him back with reverence and it felt like he was struck by a tidal wave of warmth and desire. Suddenly he was on top of her. Her hands became lost in his curls of hair as he worked the hollow behind her ear. He trailed wet kisses down her neck, finding the valley between her breasts which had been teasing him all evening. She let out a jagged breath as he pressed himself against her. He made his way back to her mouth and she enveloped him. He had nearly forgotten his name until he heard it hoarsely escape her lips, though it was not from a place of pleasure. He drew back and her hands fell from his face to his side. She wore an anguished look of apology and Marcus simply nodded, peeling himself off of her. She apologized to him profusely but he reassured her it was alright. “When the time is right,” he told her, “it’ll be perfect.”

“I don’t know what it is… I just… I have so much on my mind. I want you, I do…”

“Say no more. In due time,” he said, smiling softly. It wasn’t lost on him that they were in the home she only just recently stopped sharing with her ex-husband of nearly two decades and the photographs of Clarke plastered everywhere had to have been a constant reminder that Marcus was her daughter’s coach. Combine their setting with her weekend dealing with Jake and Marcus having just told her a deeply personal and tragic story about his past, he couldn’t blame her for not being in the right headspace for sex, especially their first time with one another. “Come here,” he told her with open arms and she obeyed, snuggling into him, as they returned their attention to the forgotten film and sushi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!! No matter how small the comment it makes my day :) thanks to all for sticking with me!


	16. A String of Bad Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake continues to disappoint Abby at every turn.

On Wednesday, Abby arrived home after work to find her garage door open and a familiar vehicle sitting in her driveway, the sight of which drew a sigh of dread from her mouth. “God,” she said under her breath. “What is it now?” She peeled herself from her car, already trembling with righteous rage at the sight of him.

Approaching him from behind, she heard him mumbling to himself. “Monitor… mobile…” he soliloquized as he dug through a plastic bin that had been taken from the garage.

“Jake? What’s going on here?” she asked. He was obviously startled, jumping at the sound of her voice. Color rose in his face and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh. I just thought I’d take some of this stuff off your hands. I’m getting things for the baby.” He placed a bag of rattles in the plastic container by his feet.

“I see you still have a copy of the garage key. I’ll take that.”

His forehead creased but he dug into his pocket and handed her the key. “Sorry about the mess,” he said, spinning around to take a quick glance inside the garage. “I hadn’t realized you rearranged in there—had trouble finding the baby stuff.”

Abby flushed and her muscles tensed. “Just so you know, you don’t live here anymore. How did you think this was okay?”

Jake scoffed. “Well nobody in this house needs this stuff—unless there’s something you need to tell me.”

She huffed an incredulous laugh, shaking her head at his ridiculous accusation and hypocrisy. She glared into his pale blues eyes which haunted her, reminded her of a time she stared into them lovingly—now all she felt was disdain.

“I paid for most of this stuff anyway,” Jake added.

“It isn’t about the money!” she shouted, a breathy explosion of words following. “It’s about the fact that you didn’t even take into consideration how I would feel about you coming into my house and taking my child’s things for the woman that you were _screwing_ while we were still married!”

He clammed up and kicked his foot against the concrete. “I’m sorry,” he finally said in a hushed voice, eyes downcast.

Abby’s hands were unconsciously balled into fists, her nails digging into her palms, nearly drawing blood. “Oh, are you? Because I don’t think you are. You never take into consideration how anyone else is feeling; you never ask. You just do whatever the hell you want and then you leave the rest of us to deal with the damage.”

“That’s not true,” Jake contested.

“You didn’t ask before you showed up here today; you didn’t ask before you bought Clarke a new car; and you _certainly_ didn’t ask before you blew up our marriage.” Abby gradually grew more angry as she listed off his misdeeds, practically yelling by the time she reached the topic of their failed marriage.

Jake protested. “I worked hard for this family. I sacrificed—”

Abby cut him off with a scornful laugh. “That’s what having a family is! It’s about sacrifice and giving. It’s also supposed to be a two-way street, but you just take.” She fell voiceless for just a moment, shaking her head in disbelief and frustration. “You took twenty years of my life, what’s a few baby items along the way?” she asked rhetorically, her voice trembling and cracking and raw. “So tell me: did you finally get what you wanted?”

Mutely, Jake turned and walked off, leaving the containers of baby items in the driveway (yet another mess he’d left for her to clean up).

“Clarke is sixteen,” Abby said to his back. His head snapped back at the sound of her voice. She shuffled her feet, then continued. “There’s way newer stuff these days,” she said, glancing down at the nearly twenty-year-old infant furniture and accessories.

Jake rolled his eyes and let out a jeering chuckle. “That’s all just a bullshit ploy to capitalize on something that’s inevitable: birth. You and I had far less when we were growing up and we turned out okay.”

Abby inwardly rolled her eyes, questioning whether he did truly turn out okay. “As a nurse, my advice is that your future child deserves better than a decade-and-a-half old walker. You owe your new family that much. Goodbye, Jake.”

After she gathered up the last of the baby items and slammed the door to the garage shut with finality, she trudged up the front steps to find a medium-sized package on her doorstep. She hadn’t ordered anything recently so she immediately checked the address on the package, assuming it was a neighbor’s that was incorrectly delivered to her home. When she read “Abigail Griffin, 547 Magnolia St, Arkadia” she curiously brought the package inside, immediately opening it up. Removing a blender from the box, her eyes glinted with joy as she found the note at the bottom of the box. Underneath the notice that the item was a gift, she found his message. “Thought you and the girls could put this to good use. -Marcus.” And just in time, too, as they were hours away from yet another margarita night and Diyoza especially was getting tired of the mixed drinks. “I miss the brain freezes,” she had said. “Sometimes I just like to feel the pain to feel something again.” Abby and Callie had eyed her curiously before laughing her comment off, knowing it was such a Diyoza thing to say.

The new blender worked wonderfully, much better than her old one (which she’d had for her and Jake’s entire marriage—she was fairly certain it was a wedding gift from Jake’s mother). And not to anybody’s surprise, Diyoza was ecstatic to find Abby had a new blender. By the time they mixed their margaritas, Abby began to tell them about her day with Jake.

“The nerve of that man,” Diyoza said with a shake of her head.

“It’s technically theft! If you want me to file a police report, just say the word,” Callie interjected.

Abby shook her head. “It’s just a reminder how Jake is _not_ what I want.”

“Well,” Callie began, hiding her mischievous smirk behind her glass, “let’s talk about what you _do_ want. Marcus had been quizzing me about your favorite food the other day.”

“Since when did you two become such good friends?” Abby asked, a smile splitting her features.

“On the topic of what you want, how badly do you want Marcus?” Diyoza asked.

“Yeah, when are you going to take a ride on that Ferrari?” added Callie.

Abby flushed at the thought, her nose crinkling as she giggled. “I just want it to be perfect… I need my head to be in the right place.”

She hoped to herself that would happen sooner rather than later for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for a short update! but next week Marcus and Abby will be together once more for their romantic date ;) kudos and comments make my day!! stick with me... it's about to get HOT!


	17. The Element of Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callie and Diyoza help Abby prepare for her date night with Marcus; things heat up between the couple and they take a big step in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is obviously where the rating changes! 18+ only please! happy hump day, readers ;)

Callie added a little bit of perfume on Abby’s neck, then kissed her cheek. She put the finishing touches on her makeup, dabbing a makeup brush in translucent powder, spreading it out across her face. The curling iron, now nice and hot, sat waiting until Callie grabbed it and added loose curls to the ends of Abby’s honey-brown hair.

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” Abby said with a chuckle, wringing her hands. “We’ve hung out plenty of times.”

“Yes, but tonight you might see it all the way through!” Callie pantomimed with suggestive motions and sounds.

“Mmm, yes, to completion!” Diyoza added from Abby’s walk-in closet where she searched for the items Abby requested to be laid out. Abby had joked when the women arrived that she felt like a princess getting ready for a ball. 

Abby giggled at Diyoza’s remark. “Oh stop it, you two!”

“Which dress are you wearing?” Diyoza called out.

“The red dress,” she reminded her. “With the gold heels.”

“Solid choice,” said Diyoza, followed by an ear-piercing squeal.

“What?” Abby and Callie asked in unison, stunned by Diyoza’s response.

Diyoza appeared into the bedroom holding up a piece of lacy black lingerie. “More importantly…”

“Cut it out! I bought that for a special occasion that never happened.”

“Oh, it’s going to happen,” Diyoza reassured her.

With the red dress and gold heels in hand, Abby headed into her bathroom to change.

“Why are you going in there to change? It’s not like we haven’t seen it all a thousand times before,” Callie said, referencing their younger days of skinny dipping in the lake on summer vacation.

“I would _like_ to make a grand entrance!” Abby protested.

Diyoza snorted. “It’s not us you’re trying to seduce, it’s Marcus Kane, and believe me, it won’t take much.”

Abby hesitated, her heart palpitating in her chest. “What if I’m not… good at… _it_ with someone new?” She fumbled with the zipper of her dress. Clearly she was out of practice.

“Or,” Callie began, and Abby could hear her smirk, “what if you’re even better?”

“Stop overthinking it and just follow your feelings wherever they lead you… or whatever it is the bullshit advice columnists would say,” Diyoza said.

Abby took a deep breath, adjusted her cleavage that expertly spilled out of her neckline, exposing the valley of her plump breasts. _Still got it_ , she thought to herself, all her worries dissipating for at least a moment. She stepped back into the master bedroom which she once shared with the same man for nearly two decades, now preparing for a date with someone new—an evening that could potentially be the biggest step in their relationship thus far. “Ta da,” she said, shrugging self-depreciatingly with a smile plastered on her face.

“Oh _damn_ , girl,” said Callie.

Diyoza shook her head, admiring Abby up and down. “That poor man…”

Callie bridged the gap between she and Abby and fixed a curl of Abby’s hair, then stroked her cheek. “Marcus is a good man. You’d be a fool to let him get away.”

“Why would I do that?” Abby asked, smiling nervously at her suggestion.

Callie’s jaw slacked, searching for her words. “I didn’t want to mention it right before your date, but I saw Jake this morning. He didn’t look too happy.” Her tone rattled Abby.

“Meaning what?” Abby asked, absently toying with her necklace.

“I’m just saying,” Callie said, holding her hands up defensively as if she were about to present in court, “it wouldn’t surprise me if one of these days he’ll tell you he wants you back.”

Abby stared at her friend in disbelief. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s engaged to the future mother of his child. She’s younger, prettier—”

“That’s debatable,” Callie muttered.

“And Clarke seems to love her,” Abby continued, ignoring Callie’s interjection. “They went to an art gallery on Tuesday.”

Callie merely shrugged. “Just saying. Have you heard anything about them setting a date for the wedding?”

“Not yet. He did tell Clarke that he wants her in the wedding, and the more time Clarke spends with Becca, the more she’s warming up to the idea.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Callie murmured, her skepticism unmistakable.

“Come on,” Abby said, protesting, “do you really think he’s not going to go through with it? How would that make him look?”

Callie left her with no answer. “Like I said, I just wouldn’t hold my breath. He definitely didn’t look happy.”

“There will be rough patches but that doesn’t mean he’s going to walk out on her and certainly doesn’t mean he’s going to come crawling back to me.”

Callie held Abby’s face in her hands, worried lines forming on her forehead. “I just wanted to warn you. Don’t get in a hurry to dump a man like Marcus for a man like Jake. There is no comparison.”

Abby mused that perhaps months ago she would have jumped at the chance to try and salvage their marriage—especially for Clarke’s sake—but now? She wasn’t so sure.

***

At seven-fifteen Marcus’s doorbell rang. Dinner was being kept warm on the stove and inside the oven while he put the finishing touches on the table setting: white tablecloth, the most elegant silverware and drinking glasses he could find online, and candles which were being lit with the flick of a matchstick when Abby arrived at his doorstep. With everything in place and the soft sound of _Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 3: Largo_ drifting pleasantly out of the smart speaker, Marcus opened the front door with booming anticipation. The sheer sight of her took his breath away. She wore a red dress that fit snugly against her figure and her creamy breasts spilled out from the neckline. The dress stopped at her knees, her gold heels complemented her tight calves and long, sleek legs. He stood speechless for a moment, unabashedly taking her all in, studying her from head to toe as if she were his notes to an important chemistry exam, mentally noting every last detail about her to save for all of the lonely nights when she wasn’t in his arms; he could just imagine how dorky his smile must have been on his face but in all truth, he felt like he had just won the lottery seeing her on his doorstep, especially looking like _that_. She dimpled at him, a blush creeping across her face, and she greeted him somewhat shyly. She was never one for the grandeur and the spotlight, he knew, but damn did she do it so well. He welcomed her in his arms and he caught a whiff of rosewater drifting from her curled locks; she swept past him gracefully, immediately taking note of the aroma that wafted from their dinner. He chuckled as she made a beeline for the kitchen towards the pleasant smells.

“Steak, lobster tail, asparagus, and truffled mashed potatoes,” he said, smiling proudly.

She gaped at him, shaking her head. “I know you said you could cook but I didn’t believe you—I thought you were joking. Oh my God, Marcus!”

“Are you impressed?” he asked, approaching her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist. He nibbled at the soft, delicate part behind her ear, causing her to gasp.

“Mmm,” she said, leaning into him, “extremely impressed.”

“Well, let’s not waste more time. Go have a seat and I’ll bring you a plate.” He kissed her temple and she obliged, though he knew it killed the independent part of her not to stay and help.

“Oh my God,” he heard her gasp from the dining room. “Marcus, this is gorgeous!”

Her excitement provoked a chuckle from deep within his throat. “I’m glad you like it,” he called out as he readied their plates.

With both of the plates of food in hand, he made his way into the dining room to see Abby pouring them both a glass of Pinot Noir.

“I see you’ve found the wine,” he said with amusement.

She raised her glass, chinking it against his. “One of my many talents.”

They dined over Tchaikovsky and Mozart, their conversation as stimulating as always as they caught up on the excitements of work and friendship. Marcus spoke of Tor and the new treatment the specialists are pursuing for Reese while Abby mentioned she had seen them both in passing at the hospital a few days prior but was too busy to stop and say hello. They briefly spoke of Clarke, how well she had been doing in school and how excited she was for the spring season of soccer club. They were both relieved that she was finally adjusting to her new life with divorced parents.

As the conversation moved along into dessert, to which Marcus presented her with his famous homemade cheesecake adorned with a chocolate covered strawberry, Abby asked him, “So since when did you and Callie become so close?”

A smile flickered across his face. “What do you mean?”

“I heard you were interrogating her the other day on my favorite foods.”

Marcus nodded slowly. “Callie is terrible at keeping secrets. Noted.”

Abby laughed, tilting her head back and placing her hand over her face, the wine obviously starting to have its effects on her.

His eyes darted downward, a sense of insecurity flooding over him for a moment. “I just didn’t want to screw this up.”

Her face fell and, shooting him a sympathetic frown, she placed her hand over his, sending electric waves of arousal to his groin. God, the power that woman held with just her touch.

“You could never screw this up,” she said ardently.

***

She wasn’t sure if it was the wine, the asparagus, the romantic candlelight, or Verdi playing in the background, but something came over her and no matter how strongly her brain could attempt to convince her otherwise, she knew that tonight was the night. With her hand resting atop of his, she pushed her chair as closely to him as possible and he did the same, meeting her halfway. His eyelids fluttered as they drew nearer, his hand gently glided from her knee over to her inner thigh causing her breath to hitch. Shadows danced across his face as the candlelight flickered in the dimly lit dining room. He was so close to her she could smell the sweet fragrance of the Pinot Noir on his breath—that beautiful combination of cherry and berries and vanilla and spice. All at once and without warning, they collided. His sweet tongue glided expertly inside her mouth, interweaving itself with hers. She tasted the acidic, silky, luscious wine on his lips. Her heartbeat boomed in her eardrums as she drew a shaky hand to place in his full, scratchy beard. Despite the alcohol coursing through her veins, she still found her nerves taking over her body. He continued to kiss her with a gentle compassion but gentle was not what she wanted. She felt his hand slide up her side and cup her breast, both of their chests rising and falling rapidly as the air thickened. She pushed against his mouth, deepening the kiss further, then with her hands resting on his shoulders, opened her legs to straddle his lap. She could feel his want for her as evident as ever against her own throbbing center and as his hands roamed hungrily over her body, she developed a growing longing for more. She wanted him. She needed him. Standing suddenly, she took his hand. “Which way to your bedroom?” she asked, her voice dripping with desire.

It took him a moment to gather his thoughts and he was still panting heavily as she stood. “Abby,” he began, his voice more gravelly than usual. He searched for his words, a worried line on his forehead. “I don’t want you to think I invited you over here just… for that.”

Abby caressed his prickly cheek and smiled softly at him. “Oh, Marcus,” she said sweetly. “You’re such a gentleman… _Stop it_ ,” she said, her final words coming out as a harsh demand.

He chuckled, then abruptly stood, lifting her up into his arms with one swift motion like a groom would lift his new bride. She gasped delightedly and giggled, feeling the slight warm flush of her face from the passion and the alcohol.

He carried her all the way into his bedroom which was clearly a bachelor’s from what she could tell with the lights off. Barren walls, minimal furniture and decoration, but at least, she thought to herself, it was clean.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he carefully brought her down with him, placing her on his lap. She kissed him with urgency, her tongue fighting for dominance with his, and he emitted a low groan from deep within his throat. His arms tightened around her and she reveled in his strong embrace.

His hands found the zipper on her dress and he slowly worked it down, then gradually slid it off of her body. She pushed him down onto his back and, straddling him, she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until his torso was finally unclad. He ran long fingers down each side of her bare arms, drawing the formation of goosebumps in lieu of his touch. She unfastened her bra but continued to hold it up to cover her breasts, teasing him with a mischievous smile. He watched her eagerly, his dark eyes pooling with hungry lust as she finally flung the piece of material across the room, leaving her top now completely exposed. He pushed himself up and his arms circled her to gather her against him. She knotted her fists in his dark, wavy hair as he trailed ravenous kisses from her neck down to her breasts, provoking her breath to tangle in her throat. As his lips found her mouth once more, she again pushed him onto his back and he flounced against the mattress, her soft lips immediately seeking out his protruding Adam’s apple that faintly bobbed up and down as he panted. Emboldened, she ran her hands over his toned shoulders, down his chest, solid muscle under invitingly plush skin. She continued to trail her hands down his torso, finally meeting that soft patch of black hair that flourished around his navel. Her dark eyes met his, both equally hungry for more, and he chewed at his lip as her fingers ghosted his waistline. His intense need for her was bulging amusingly from his dress pants, gaining a smirk from Abby.

“That’s what you do to me,” he rasped.

She raised an eyebrow and unfastened his belt, then undid his pants. He lifted himself off the bed momentarily, allowing her to peel his pants off, discarding them on the floor below them. She took her time rubbing a hand over his boxers which barely contained his warm, solid member. He shuttered a breath, writhing in pleasure, moaning as he moved his hips up to meet her touch, obviously desperate for the sensation her hand was bringing him.

All at once, he seized her hand, panting desperate pleas for her to stop. “I can’t… I might…”

Understanding, she nodded and drew her hand away, pleased with herself and the power she held over him. With haste, he lifted her up and switched positions, placing her on her back and he above her. His mouth enveloped hers, his tongue slowly coaxing her lips to part. He pushed himself against her, grinding into her hot center, low grunts and moans escaping from the both of them. His hands trailed down her sides until he found her lace panties and, hooking his fingers on each end, he slid them off with expert care. He’d done that before.

“A long time ago,” he laughed shyly and it was only then she realized she had spoken out loud. “You’re the only woman that holds my interest now.” He spoke with such devotion that she couldn’t even find it in herself to doubt him.

His fingers found her center which was embarrassingly soaked and ready for him. One, then two, and eventually three long, thick fingers entered her and she gasped, forsaking all her senses save for sheer, blissful pleasure. He hooked his fingers, finding just the right spot, and drew her to a frenzy of euphoria.

While her body still reacted to the results of his touch, he slid his fingers out of her and pulled off his boxers, his full erection finally springing free. Her eyes surveyed him in full, and she licked her lips with fierce desire for more. He pumped himself a couple of times, his hand gliding easily up and down his long member which was dripping for her. Wasting no time, he adjusted himself and slowly entered her, a sigh of contentment falling from each of their lips. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long until his pants became more heavy as he drove himself deep inside her. Over the sound of the creaking bed and the slapping together of wet skin cried two people, desperate for one another, as they finally took that intimidating step forward in their relationship. His fingers dug into her hips as he grew closer to climax, and seeing the pure pleasure on his face as he moved inside her pushed her near the edge as well. They moved rhythmically together, steadily picking up the pace. Desperate for release, she cried out for him like an apostle would cry out a prayer—his name like a psalm, a benediction, an invocation on her lips. He looked upon her with reverence, and they exalted one another as they reached a mutual rapture, praise falling from his lips as he spilled inside of her.

***

She had imagined how it would go plenty of times, sure, but she certainly hadn’t imagined it would have went the way it did. For a near-twenty years she had only been with one man. In all of their years together, she never once even thought of another man. And perhaps, she considered, if not for Marcus, she would have never been with another man again. Marcus was… well, he was different, she thought to herself as she dozed off in his arms, for the first time in a long time feeling like she was right where she needed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments make my day no matter how small! they put a smile on my face and encourage me to keep going. thank you to y'all for your continued support for me and this story!


	18. Can't Fight This Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus has dinner with Abby and Clarke; later, Marcus and Abby continue to take big steps forward in their relationship.

Abby woke first, the stillness of the room and the steady rise and fall of his chest nearly lulling her back to sleep until she became utterly entranced by his slumbering form—his pouted lips, flaring nostrils, and an unruly curl that rested on his forehead; he was the epitome of perfection in her heart and mind. She trailed featherlight kisses from his neck down to his chest, earning a moan of satisfaction from him as he began to stir. She felt him rub his hand over the small of her back, a sleepy, boyish grin formed on his face.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice still rough from sleep. She noted a faint tickle in her throat, then cleared it.

“Morning,” he said with a groan, his voice as harsh as hers. He leaned in to kiss her and she felt a sudden jolt of desire course through her. Deepening the kiss with a hunger for more, her hands found his toned, brawny shoulders as she straddled him, her body already evident with desire. A chuckle of surprise left Marcus. “We haven’t even had breakfast yet,” he said, but never pushed her away. 

“You are my breakfast,” she growled, teeth meeting his earlobe. Strong hands cupped her ass, his fingers dug into her flesh. His arousal throbbed against her center as she began to grind him, emitting moans of pleasure from them both. Within moments, she was ready for him, and he for her, and she took him in, inch by inch, filling her completely, iron hot.

After two consecutive orgasms, Abby was completely spent and fell back asleep in Marcus’s arms. Their sweaty bodies stuck together as they slumbered in a deep, content sleep that neither had ever experienced before.

He woke before her and by the time she began to stir, it was nearing midday, the full sun shone through the blinds. She rubbed the sleep from her cloudy eyes and squinted at the unpleasant light that invaded the room. She reached for him but found only empty space and an ache began to blossom within her, his absence paramount. She then realized how difficult it was going to be going back home to a cold, empty bed that evening.

She craned her neck around the room in search of him to no avail. She heard the faint clatter coming from the kitchen and a familiar smell wafted into the bedroom. She smiled to herself and waited expectantly. She felt for her phone from the bedside table and retrieved it, finding she had twenty messages and three missed FaceTime attempts. She rolled her eyes and smiled, then shut off her phone. “Nosy bitches,” she said with a husky laugh. Callie and Diyoza could wait. Actually, she _loved_ making them wait.

A little while later, she heard Marcus’s bare feet slap against the hardwood and he entered the bedroom holding a wooden tray donning a plate of waffles, bacon, fresh fruit, and eggs. Her stomach growled at the sight.

“Oh, good. You’re up,” he said, placing the tray over her lap, then kissing her forehead. “Coffee? Or tea?”

Abby smiled at his sincerity. “Coffee. Black, please.”

“Coming right up,” he said with a wink.

He was out of the room and back in within moments, handing her a steaming cup of jet black coffee. She held the blazing cup in her hands and breathed in the scent before downing the liquid. Setting the cup of coffee on the side table and looking down at her plate of food, she shook her head in amazement. “This is incredible. Thank you, Marcus.”

He smiled softly. “Enjoy,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’m off to shower.”

A strange odor began to infest her senses, but it wasn’t Marcus. She sniffed the air curiously. “Um, Marcus?” Her voice caused him to stop in place. “Am I having a stroke, or did you burn the toast?”

His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped. “Dammit! How did I miss that?” She couldn’t help but giggle as he sprinted out of the room. A string of swear words escaped his mouth and she covered her face in her hands at the sound of the clatter coming from the kitchen.

He returned moments later, looking defeated. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I can’t believe I forgot the toast. Do you want me to make you some more?”

She giggled. “Marcus, it’s _fine_. You’ve done enough. _More_ than enough. Come here,” she said, patting the bed. He sat down and draped his arm over her as she indulged in the incredible breakfast he made.

Afterwards, she set aside the dirtied dishes and he joined her under the covers and wrapped her in his arms. She felt so warm, safe, secure bundled up with him and she never wanted to leave. They held one another in silence for a while, Marcus finally breaking the quiet. “I need to shower,” he said with a groan. “I stink.”

Abby snorted. “Me too. I’ll wash up the dishes and then I’ll join you.” Marcus opened his mouth to protest but she brought a finger to his lips and shushed him. “See you soon,” she said, wrapping a robe around her body before carrying the dishes to the kitchen.

She placed the plates into the sink and turned on the faucet. Steam rose up in a hissing cloud. She carefully scratched her face with the back of her hand, mindful of the soap suds stuck to her palm. She scrubbed, rinsed, and repeated until the dishes were sparkling. She always preferred hand washing over a dishwasher.

By the time the dishes were clean, the bathroom was foggy and humid. Steam drifted over the top of the shower and as Abby slid open the fogged glass door, she found Marcus shampooing his hair, the suds from the soap gathered so heavily on his head he resembled Disney’s villain Ursula. She choked back a laugh as she undressed and stepped inside to join him.

Abby massaged Marcus’s scalp and helped him rinse the shampoo from his hair, then lathered her hands with soap and rubbed it into his back, taking time to work out the kinks from his tense shoulders. Next, it was Abby’s turn to receive, and Marcus methodically worked his fingers into her muscles and kneaded her scalp. She fell back against his wet chest, savoring the moment under the water while it was still near-scorching, as he lathered her breasts and rubbed them tenderly, his thumbs taking care to circle her nipples which grew to stiffened peaks under his touch. He moved her dripping hair to one side and it slumped over her shoulder. He dropped his lips and planted delicate kisses at the nape of her neck. She could feel his need for her growing solid against her hip. She sighed and raised her arms over her head to hook them around his own neck. “Can every day be like this?” she asked, dreamily.

She felt his body shake and heard him chortle. “If only.”

His lips moved to the side of her neck and then her ear. He nibbled on her lobe and goosebumps tingled on her arms at the sensation. She moaned. She turned to face him, drew her hand up to his hair and pushed his dark, dripping bangs back out of his face, and he backed her up against the shower wall, his hands hungrily roaming her body. She brought her hands to his chest, ran her fingers over the plot of dark, coiled hair then followed the trail down until her hands met his arousal that poked against her. Clasping around his girth, she began to lazily stroke him, skin invitingly smooth as silk. Her fingers glided easily over his veiny member—slick from the water and his desire—and he grew stiffer in her hand, hot and throbbing. Her thumb circled his dripping, swollen head and he groaned into her neck. He reached down and found her own center and began to tease her with long, inviting fingers. She stifled a moan. (She had spent far too many years having hushed quickies over the course of her marriage—during those rare, stolen moments of serenity—that silencing herself had become an unconscious reflex). She grew slicker for him and he spun her around with careful force, her face then against the shower wall. He lifted her leg and angled himself and took her from behind. This time was different. It was rough, animalistic. Abby had found that there were many sides to Marcus. A soft, romantic side where they would take things slow and make love to her as the morning birds sang, a patient side that would have waited on her for as long as she needed, and then this side, where his long, strong fingers wrapped around her throat as he drove himself into her, swearing explicitly into her ear. She enjoyed it. She could never imagine their relationship growing stale and monotonous if he continued to surprise her like _that_.

“Come for me, Abby,” he said, his breath shuddering as he moved mercilessly inside her. “I want to hear you.” His voice was nearly a growl.

She came hard, violently, her knees buckling as she did. He came soon after with a shout, and she smiled as she felt him pulse inside of her, filling her with his hot liquid.

Afterwards, they held one another under the water, and she simply closed her eyes to relish in the sensation, comforted in his embrace, allowing the warm droplets to spray her face. They stayed like that until the steam dissipated and the water began to chill, and by the time they stepped out to dry off, Abby’s fingers had pruned. She admired the view of the godlike specimen with dripping dark locks, her eyes unable to peel away from his firm, alabaster ass as he turned to reach for a spare towel (she had beaten him to grabbing the towel he had laid out for himself). She chewed at her lip as she watched him from out of the corner of her eye. He dried his face off first, then his hair, then his body. He wrapped the towel around his lower half and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, wiped away the fog from the mirror with his forearm which revealed his reflection in a smudged, oblong manner.

“I think it’s time for a shave,” he said, scratching at his full, salt-and-pepper beard.

She approached him from behind and wrapped her arms around his waist. “No. Don’t.”

“Really?” he asked with a cocked brow, smirking. “You like it? I think it makes me look old.”

“Nuh uh. It’s so fucking hot.”

***

After getting dressed, they said their goodbyes, Marcus stating he had some errands to run, but they agreed to meet at her place that evening for dinner. Abby needed to get home to prepare everything, as well as prepare Clarke, who she knew would be hesitant about having dinner with her coach.

Abby returned home to find Clarke sitting on the couch, watching videos on her phone.

“Hey,” she said without looking up.

“Hey,” Abby said, winded from carrying in an armful of groceries. “When did you get here?”

“Dad dropped me off a few hours ago on his way to work.”

Abby opened the produce door to the fridge and placed the fresh vegetables inside which she picked up from the Farmer’s Market. “Did you have a nice time at your dad’s?”

“Yeah,” Clarke said, disinterested in conversation, typing away on her phone. “Did _you_ have a nice time at Coach Kane’s?” she asked and Abby caught from the corner of her eye Clarke feigning a gag.

“Well,” Abby said, reaching into the grocery bag to retrieve the pantry items, “since you asked, we had a fantastic time.” Clarke grumbled something incoherently. Abby continued. “Things went so well, in fact, he’s coming over for dinner tonight.”

Clarke groaned. “Seriously? Mom, that’s _so_ awkward,” she whined.

“Get used to it,” Abby said with a touch of endearing snide. “You gave us your blessing, after all.”

Shortly after, Clarke retreated to her room upstairs, mumbling something about needing to finish up writing a paper, and Abby finally took time to fill her friends in on the latest gossip.

“It’s so big,” Abby whispered into the phone, astonishment laced in her voice. A giggle escaped her. She covered her mouth to quiet herself lest Clarke overheard her from upstairs. Callie and Diyoza guffawed into their phones.

“Holy shit,” said Diyoza.

“You go, girl,” said Callie.

“When will you see him again?” Diyoza asked.

“Well, he’s coming over for dinner tonight.” Collective _oohs_ escaped the women on the other line. “But I have Clarke, so…”

“Ah. Well, there’ll be other nights. Hopefully you two got it out of your system last night,” Diyoza said.

“And this morning,” Callie added, knowingly. “Mhm. I can hear you smiling from here, Ab.”

Abby snickered. “Hopefully we’ll get another opportunity soon. I can’t go too long without _that_ now that I’ve had it.”

“See? I told you it would be fine,” Callie said.

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, I’ll text you ladies later, I need to put dinner on. Love ya!” With a tap, Abby ended their phone call just in time to hear her phone ping. It was a text from Marcus.

_Red or white?_

She smiled down at her phone. She had already told him all he needed to bring was himself, but she should’ve known that man was not going to listen to her.

 _White. We’re having scallops_.

Quickly, he replied.

_…And for dessert? ;)_

Despite herself, her face warmed, and she grinned from ear to ear.

 _Behave yourself, Marcus Kane. And don’t forget the wine!_ Punctuating her message with a heart emoji, she pressed send and then threw her phone to the other end of the couch, feeling like a love-struck teenager. Desperately needing to start dinner prep, she peeled herself off the couch (and _away_ from her phone) and started on dinner.

Marcus arrived at a quarter to seven but that wasn’t before he texted Abby inquiring what Clarke’s favorite dessert was. She had shaken her head and chuckled, then texted him a reply: _Caramel cheesecake._ And then: _What are you up to?_

 _See you soon!_ was all he had said in response.

Sure enough, he arrived with a bottle of white wine in one hand and caramel cheesecake in the other, holding them up and grandly presenting them with a cheesy grin on his face as she opened the front door. She shook her head, beamed at the sight of him. God, she loved him. Wait. No. She _liked_ him. Jesus, Abby.

“Come on in,” she said, sidestepping to allow him entrance and standing on her tip-toes to meet his lips for a quick kiss. “Missed you.” She bit her lip as she smiled up at him.

He smirked and closed the door from behind. “Missed you more,” he replied against her lips, then capturing them with his own before breaking apart at the sound of footsteps boring down the staircase.

“Hi,” Clarke said, almost sheepishly as she rounded the corner.

If Marcus was nervous about their first dinner together, he didn’t show it, and instead greeted Clarke warmly with a hello and then raised up his hand that held the cheesecake. “I brought dessert.”

Clarke, obviously trying to play it cool, quickly wet her lips and smirked. “Are you trying to bribe me?” she asked with a faint raise of her brow. Her voice was smaller than usual and Abby could tell she wasn’t fully comfortable with the situation, but to see the awkwardness starting to shatter relieved her, the knot in her stomach beginning to vanish and a warmth blossoming in trade.

He certainly showed up prepared, and not just with cheesecake and wine. He had picked up small details about Clarke over the time of knowing her and what Abby would tell him, and did his research prior to dinner. In between their easy chit-chat in which they shared the less-intimate details about their date and discussed Clarke’s week at school, Marcus bonded with Clarke over her favorite soccer teams and players, as well as made conversation with her about musicals. They both agreed they were excited to see the In The Heights film. Abby looked up from her plate, appreciative of the fact he was trying so hard with Clarke, and deep down wondered if she would be where she was—divorced at forty—if Jake had taken such interest in her and Clarke over the last few years. Her gut immediately twisted with guilt at the speculation. She needed to put the past behind her. She was with Marcus now and she was happy. The “what-ifs” were helping no one. She forced the thoughts away, focusing on Marcus’s crinkled, sparkling eyes and a grin that could instantaneously turn her into a puddle.

But, as if the universe had heard her thoughts, Clarke’s next words shocked Abby to her core. “Speaking of musicals,” she began in between bites of pasta and scallops, “Dad texted me right before dinner… He got us tickets to see Hamilton next July!” She squealed, sounding ecstatic, finally bursting with the information she had held the entire dinner.

Her brows rose in a question. “By ‘us’ you mean… You… and your father?” Abby asked slowly, incredulously. Jake loathed musicals. He never was involved in any of Clarke’s hobbies and interests aside from soccer, to which Abby never did fault him for—he was busy with his job and the fact that he made it to every game that he could counted for something in her mind—but this was a new side to Jake she had never seen before. And of course, neither did Clarke, obvious by her reaction.

“Yeah! Cool, huh? Dad said it’s another treat for a successful soccer season. He told me he’s been listening to the musical and actually likes a lot of the songs!”

Abby’s façade began to falter slightly but she pressed on, forcing a smile. “That’s great, honey!” Her eyes caught Marcus’s and she noticed his demeanor change, his features falling, similar to the night Jake showed up with a car for Clarke.

The rest of the dinner went smoothly, Abby and Marcus’s spirits picked up as the wine began to flow, and Marcus spoke freely about his job, sharing a plethora of anecdotes about his students. Of course, Clarke asked him about his time as a soccer player and he told her stories of the most famous players he had met and his favorite places he traveled. As they dined on cheesecake, Clarke spoke of college, said there were a few schools she had her eyes on but it all felt so far off for now and that, to the chagrin of Abby, she considered taking a semester off after high school to just live before jumping right back into studies again. Marcus nodded along and stated that he would gladly send in a letter of recommendation whenever she would like, if that need were to ever arise.

After dinner, Clarke thanked her mother for the meal and Marcus for the cheesecake, then with a slight raise of her hand, awkwardly waved goodbye as she headed upstairs to her room. There was a moment where Clarke nearly went in to hug Marcus, then seemingly thought better of it. Abby couldn’t help but notice his shoulders slump as he shoved his hands in his pockets, the disappointment not lost on her. _Give it time_ , she had to remind herself. This was far from simple for everyone involved.

Following another glass of wine, this one by the fireplace, Abby and Marcus found themselves in the kitchen washing up the dishes. Abby scrubbed and then Marcus rinsed, placing each pot, plate, pan, and utensil in the dish rack to dry. They worked in comfortable silence until Abby scrubbed the last plate. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, her eyes downcast. Marcus blinked as if trying to process what she could be apologizing for. Before he could speak, she continued. “This is ridiculous, I know,” she prefaced, “but I just feel that whenever you have a special moment with Clarke, Jake tries to one-up you, without even _knowing_ that he’s trying to one-up you. He just has the worst timing to do nice things… I sound so childish.” She dried her hands off and rubbed her face, unsure if she was even making sense with what she was saying.

Marcus frowned, eyes boring into hers. “What do you mean?”

Abby sighed, frustrated as the words just wouldn’t come to her. “It’s just that…” she struggled. “First, you and Clarke have a special moment after beating Eden High, and what does Jake do? He rolls up in a brand new car for her. Now, it was our first dinner together, just the three of us, and he’s getting her tickets to see Hamilton. Jesus,” she scoffed. “I should be happy that my daughter’s father is doing nice things for her, I know. I just hate that it keeps spoiling these nice moments between you two. It was supposed to be _your_ evening together. Instead it was mostly spent listening to her talk about Jake.”

“Abby.” Marcus lifted her chin and peered at her harshly from under his brow. “Jake’s a part of who you both are. He’s family. I’ll never want to stand in the way of that. Sure, the timing hasn’t been the best, I’ll admit, and I do wish Clarke and I could have more bonding time together but I can’t fault her for being excited about spending time with her dad. You should never have to apologize for Jake being mentioned, and certainly don’t worry about it regarding me.”

Abby wet her lips and swallowed hard. Her throat was desert dry. “I just want her to trust you… I want her to see you like I see you. I know that Jake is her father and I’d never want that to change, but I don’t want you to feel hurt…”

“Hey,” he said easily. “Trust takes time. Look at us.” He smiled down at her and stroked her cheek with his thumb. He was right. As much as Marcus wanted to be a bigger part of Clarke’s life, it was just going to take time. This was all going to take time. It took her a bit of time to trust him, and herself, before starting a relationship with him, and it was not going to be a walk in the park for her daughter, either. It was bittersweet that Jake was finally taking interest in Clarke outside of athletics, but Abby still couldn’t ignore the pang of irritation she felt, the gnawing sense that it was possibly taking away from Marcus’s chance at growing closer with Clarke. As if reading her mind, Marcus continued. “Jake doing nice things for Clarke doesn’t threaten me, Abby. The disappointment that you see… Well, as you know, I never had the chance to be a dad. I’m sad, I’m envious. I admit that. Clarke and I will never have what she and Jake have, because _he’s_ her father, but I hope, over time, things can change between us, and eventually… she’ll see me as more than just a coach someday…” He shrugged. “ _Jake’s_ her dad. It’s great that he’s in her life—that he’s trying. I wish I could say the same about my father.”

Abby nodded, recalling the time Marcus opened up with her over the phone about his upbringing and his strained relationship with his alcoholic father, who died before they could ever make amends.

“All things aside, we still had a great dinner tonight and we learned a lot about one another. That counts for something.”

His positivity warmed her. “The first of many dinners,” she added with a smile, tears threatened to prick the lids of her eyes. He nodded. She wrapped her arms around his waist, taking in the scent of his musky cologne as she laid her head against his chest. Abby exhaled, deep in thought. “I’m sorry that Clarke and I come with so much baggage.”

She felt his hands clasp onto her shoulders, pushing her away from his body so she could meet his eyes. She felt burdened with guilt; he didn’t deserve all of this. She blinked rapidly, her face contorted. “Hey,” he said in a hushed voice, wiping away the tears she hadn’t even noticed fall down her face. “Abby, I love you for _all_ parts of you. The baggage, the messiness, I love it all… I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.” She stood wide eyed and stunned, the four letter word taking her by surprise. He smiled, and it was obviously not lost on him that the word continued to linger in her mind. His dark eyes were piercing with a steadfast gaze that she had only ever experienced from Marcus Kane. He caressed her cheek and bent down to kiss her lips so adoringly she thought her knees would give out. As he pulled away, he spoke with the utmost sincerity and said, “I love you.”

The room began to spin. Abby fell speechless, her jaw slacked. No. No, no, no. Not yet. Her heart palpitated and her words nearly caught in her throat. Stuttering, she finally formed a coherent sentence. “Slow down,” she all but croaked, her throat now like the Sahara.

Despite her words, he smiled, his features soft and warm, his eyes still twinkling with love and joy as if she had said it back. God, the man was so patient with her. “I have been slow, by my standards, at least.” He brushed her cheek and she leaned into his touch, seeking comfort within the warmth of his hand. “You don’t have to say it back. But I am the type to wear my heart on my sleeve. Life’s too short to be honest about how you feel.” At that, he leaned down and kissed her softly, his mouth tasting floral and rich to her tongue. “Goodnight, Abby.”


	19. Wrap You In My Colors & Keep You Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby comes to a realization about her relationship. Callie faces a crisis. Marcus gets a surprise.

Abby barely slept that night, her mind weighing heavy with Marcus’s confession. He _loved_ her. She had an inkling that it was coming, especially after the night spent at his place (at one point, as they were lying in bed, he had opened his mouth to say something, then clasped it shut, thinking better of it; sleep had taken her before she had a chance to ask what was on his mind), but she had hoped he’d hold off on telling her. It wasn’t that she had thought it before, too, but she just wasn’t sure how ready she was to solidify those feelings with words that, once said, there was no unsaying. 

It was sometime around seven that morning when she finally began to doze, and it was nearing nine when she heard her phone ring. With a groan, she leaned over to reach for the noisy culprit. Her friend’s name appeared on the screen, blurred from the sleep that plagued her eyes.

“Callie?” she said in question, her voice like sandpaper. All she heard on the other line were sniffles. “Callie, what’s wrong?” she asked with her heart in her throat, now wide awake with worry.

“It’s Russell… We broke up,” Callie croaked.

“Oh, Callie,” she said with remorse. Russell was Callie’s on-again, off-again long-distance fling. He worked as a mechanical engineer for NASA and spent his time in between Orlando and Arkadia. Just then, she heard a ding, and she drew the phone away from her ear to see Diyoza’s text come through.

_Emergency Margarita Meeting at Callie’s ASAP._

She smiled down at her phone, then put it back up to her ear. “Hey, we’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Callie said with a small, broken voice, before Abby ended the call and shut off her phone with a faint click.

***

Nine o’clock in the morning was a tad early for margaritas, though, despite that, Diyoza asked, “Y’all down for a margarita morning?” Abby’s face scrunched. “Fuck it,” Diyoza said. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” She poured a dash of Cuervo into her breakfast smoothie. Abby kept hers virgin, as did Callie, to which Diyoza replied with “Suit yourselves.”

Abby and Diyoza sat, sipping on their smoothies, as Callie filled them in on her recently failed relationship. Callie had wanted to finally pursue something more serious with Russell, and she said they had even told one another “I love you,” but when the topic of children was mentioned, Russell was highly opposed. He had watched his little sister be mauled by their family dog as a toddler, then watched her struggle to survive in the hospital for three grueling days until she succumbed to her injuries. Years later, during volunteer work in Africa as a college sophomore, he held a baby in his palm, the size of a yam, with every bone visible in her tiny body, and watched as she took her final, dying breath. His argument was why should they have children when there were children all over the globe that were dying, unable to be cared for. He admitted to her that he wasn’t sure he would make a good father, nor did he want to open himself up to that kind of hurt like he felt when he lost his little sister and it frightened him to his core to be responsible for a small, helpless, living thing. He was scared to raise a kitten, let alone a baby. Callie told the women that she understood Russell, and she appreciated his transparency, but having children was something that she deeply wanted, and it still hurt for things to come to an end between them.

Callie fell deep in thought, then finally scoffed. “You know he asked me to marry him?” Abby and Diyoza’s eyebrows raised in stunned silence, the look of question on both of their faces as they waited for her to continue. “It wasn’t a grand proposal—more of a suggestion—but we were getting serious. Being a divorce lawyer all these years turned me completely against marriage, but I’ve wanted nothing more than to be a mother someday. Our priorities just didn’t align.” She spoke with such bleakness, it broke Abby’s heart. Callie was supposed to be the cheerful one. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to keep you ladies here… Don’t you have jobs to get to?”

“Don’t _you_?” Abby asked.

“I took a sick day,” Callie said, then reached for the bottle of tequila and took a gulp. Oh dear.

“Eric Jackson’s covering for me today,” said Abby, slowly reaching for the bottle of liquor and placing it out of Callie’s reach.

“I’m off,” said Diyoza, raising her glass.

“We’re here for you. All day if you need us. _If_ you can handle us for that long,” Abby jested, pinching Callie’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” said Callie. “Now, pass me the tequila. I’m looking to get drunk and pregnant. Probably in that order.”

“Oh, Lord,” Diyoza said, nearly choking on her drink.

“Okay, alright,” Abby began, “listen, we all know how painful it can be to kick a man to the curb, but you don’t just rebound yourself out of the pan and into the hellfire. You were the one who told me that I need to take some time to breathe, and grieve, and regain my balance.”

Callie hummed. “Yeah. And it’s just so much easier to say it than to hear it, isn’t it?”

Diyoza stepped around Abby and grabbed the bottle of Jose Cuervo, passing it to Callie. “You go right ahead and melt the fuck down, but ease up on all of this talk about getting pregnant, okay? It’s alarming.”

“Well,” Callie began, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I’ve even got a specialist—Dr. Dante Wallace.”

“Ick. Cage Wallace’s dad?” Diyoza asked, as if the name left a distaste in her mouth.

“Mhm.”

“Oh. Well, thanks for letting us know before the baby shower,” Abby said, her voice laced with annoyance and hurt. It was all too new to process but all she knew was she couldn’t believe Callie would keep something like this from her.

“Well, I was going to tell you, but then…” Callie’s words trailed off and she chewed at her lip. Oh, so it was Abby’s fault? She felt horrible that she had been so caught up in her own life and her own mess that she wasn’t paying more careful attention to her friend. Callie continued. “So, I’m going to make an appointment with this doctor and we’re going to get this show on the road! Right after I finish off this bottle of Cuervo.”

Abby realized something as she held her crying, drunk friend in her arms at ten A.M. on a Monday, consoling her over her lost love who was likely already back in Florida, living his life freely, sipping a rum and coke at a swim-up bar in mid-November. She scoffed, feeling somewhat jealous of the man in the made-up scenario that her mind formulated on its own. What she realized, however, was that Marcus was right. Life was too short not to tell someone how you feel. She needed to take a chance and, for the love of God, open up. She was tired of letting her past and _one_ failed marriage to hold her back from being truly happy with the most amazing man she had ever met.

***

Soon after dismissal on Monday, Marcus received a call from Abby. His heart thumped in his chest at the sight of her angelic face popping up on his screen—her contact photo a candid picture he had taken of her in the early days of their blossoming friendship, sitting on a park bench, laughing at one of his lame jokes. His cheeks raised inadvertently, then he swiped his finger across the screen to accept her call.

“Hey, handsome,” she said, her voice deep and husky, his body immediately responding to the sound. He bit his lip and chuckled lowly. Christ, he needed to control himself, he was still at work and would be for at least another half-hour.

“Hey, yourself,” he replied, doing his best to stifle a yawn. He stretched back in his office chair and propped his feet up on his desk. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you were free tonight.”

Straight to the point. He couldn’t help but smile. He glanced down at the stack of ungraded papers on his desk. He really should get caught up on grading, but with one flashback of her lips clasped around him, there was no debating it. He was certainly free. “I have a few papers to grade but they can wait,” he said with little hesitation.

“Are you sure?” Her tone was playful.

He smirked. “Very sure. So, um…” He absentmindedly clicked his pen in his hand. “Is this a booty call or something more romantic? Meaning, should I show up in clothes or just my socks?”

She giggled at his candidness and he swore it was the cutest sound he had ever heard. “Romantic. Dress nice. My place. Six-thirty. Clarke’s at her dad’s tonight.”

It would be cutting it close for him to finish up the work that he couldn’t put off another day (interims were due and dammit he still had essays to put into the gradebook), get home, shower, get dressed, and make it to her place in time, but he was just as eager to see her so he agreed. “Wait,” he began, a sudden realization hitting him, “I thought you were working today?”

“I took the day off.” He heard her blow out a breath. “Callie had a breakdown.”

“Why? Is she okay?”

“She will be. She and Russell broke up.”

He sucked in air between his teeth and smacked his lips. “Man. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah. On the bright side, I get to see you tonight,” she said, her tone now cheerful. “I’ll let you get back to work. See you soon.”

With a kiss into the speaker, she ended the call. He sat in his chair, grinning like an idiot for several moments, wishing the work day away and counting down the minutes until she was in his arms. He decided that distracting himself with work would be more productive and probably help pass the time much more efficiently rather than sitting there thinking about her and their upcoming evening together, so he steadied his favorite red pen and started grading, defacing each of the crisp, typed essays on the interrelation of environment and personal health with marks of smudgy, red ink.

It was a race against the clock. Once he finished grading the papers, he gathered his belongings and slung his brown leather messenger bag over his shoulder. He had just stepped foot outside his classroom when a dark shadow began to loom over him. He turned to see Arkadia High’s star basketball player number 33.

“Lincoln,” Marcus said, looking up at him.

“Mr. Kane! Do you have a minute?”

The young man had sweat beads on his forehead and was still in his team uniform from practice. Marcus sighed and glanced down at his watch. “A minute, that’s all,” he said with a nod, reopening his classroom door.

They sat down and Lincoln shared with Marcus his concerns and that his coach, Coach Cadogan, threatened to kick him off the team if his grades didn’t improve.

“I’ll miss senior night, Mr. Kane,” Lincoln said, his forehead creasing and voice filled with despair.

Marcus rubbed his eyes, mildly frustrated, and let out a breath. How hard was it to get at least a C in health class? “How about this,” he finally began. “You know I’m not one for special treatment, but I _can_ assign the whole class an easy take-home project for extra credit. If you do that and bring it back in _on time_ ,” he punctuated those last two words especially, because that was the one thing the young man often did not do with his assignments, “then that might bring your grade up to a C.”

Lincoln breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Marcus’s jaw clenched as the young man left the room. Now he needed to think of a project. Great. Another thing added to his plate.

Another attempt to escape work, another failure. He thought he was being stealthy. He thought he could make it out to his truck without anyone catching him. He was wrong. Lorelei Tsing, one of the biology teachers at Arkadia High, caught him in the hallway with a tug of his shirt sleeve. “Hey!” she called. “Kane!”

He turned, stunned, thinking he had been alone in the hallway. “Tsing. How are you?”

“Fine, thank you. Listen, I was about to shoot you an email but it’s good I caught you in person. I’m going out of town for a professional development training in two weeks. I was wondering if you could sub my Freshman math tutoring class on that Thursday.”

Not wanting to waste any more time to think about it or debate it, he agreed. He didn’t mind taking an hour out of the day to help a co-worker as well as make a little extra money. “Sure. Wouldn’t mind at all. Gotta go!”

“Oh. Okay. Great, thank you. Um, have a nice evening,” she called out but Marcus was already dashing out of the double doors, all but sprinting to his truck.

He took the backroads home to avoid the interstate rush hour and hurried inside to shower off the stress of the day. Fresh breath, an oiled beard, clean hair dried and styled (to perfection, if you asked him), and a dab of his favorite cologne had him set and ready for the evening. He scoured his closet in nothing but his boxer briefs until he finally decided on an aegean blue tee paired with a black blazer and matching black pants.

***

“Didn’t think you’d make it,” Abby said, answering the door wistfully. She wore a cold shoulder black blouse that snugged to her bosom and dark skinny jeans that looked like they had been painted on. She took his breath away.

“Hell or high water, I wasn’t missing this for the world,” he replied and then his lips were capturing hers, desperate and hungry with want. She was all he could think about on the drive over, some thoughts less innocent than others. She backed him up against the door and it shut with a click as he roamed his hands over her bare shoulders, then down her sides. He burned for her, his lips devouring her neck. One of her hands hooked around the nape of his neck and her other fell to grasp the bulge in his pants. He moaned against her skin and then his mouth was on hers once again, their tongues finding one another in an energetic dance. He began to grind against her hand, matching her rhythm, growing harder by the second. He hadn’t been that eager since his hormonal-raged teenage years. Just as soon as she began to unfasten his belt, they were stilled to a sudden halt by the faint sound of a chiming ditty.

“What- what is that?” he asked, breathless. Abby’s head fell against his chest, his pants hanging around his ankles, now.

“That’s our dinner.”

His jaw slacked in question. “You made dinner?”

“Yes, Marcus, I didn’t ask you to dress up just for a booty call.”

“Oh… But I mean, if you ever wanted to do that sort of thing… I’m not opposed to roleplay.”

This caused her to snicker. “Pull your pants up and meet me in the dining room,” she demanded playfully, slapping him on the chest.

He straightened himself and saluted her. “Yes, sir.”

She turned, stopping in place. “Sir?” She raised her brow.

“They call everyone ‘sir’ in Star Trek,” he said with a shrug.

She huffed out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Nerd,” he heard her mumble under her breath.

He removed his boots and then met Abby in the dining room. Presented grandly on the table was, according to Abby, rack of lamb with mustard-shallot sauce, roasted potatoes garnished with rosemary, and broccoli parmesan.

“You trying to one-up me?” he asked, feigning skepticism.

Abby’s cheeks raised and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Maybe…” Standing on the tips of her toes, she planted a chaste kiss to his lips before lightly shoving him away. “Now let’s eat before it gets cold!”

Of course, she had everything decorated beautifully. White table cloth, rose petals, her finest dining ware, and white candles lit all around the room. Above them, white lights dangled from the ceiling, strung across the room in crisscross.

“I tried my best to recreate the setting of our date on the estate. The one where I had to leave early because… Well, you remember.” She opened up a bottle of Bordeaux, then filled each of their glasses.

“Thank you,” he said, and then, “it’s amazing, Abby. You’ve recreated it beautifully.”

She hummed into her glass of wine, her chocolate eyes twinkling.

He took a drink, the full-bodied, fruity, and earthy flavors causing his taste buds to do prickly somersaults. He wasn’t usually much of a wine drinker, but he was impressed. “This wine is… Wow.”

“Good right?” she asked. “I was saving it for…” She gazed down at the label that read _2006_ then waved her hands in the air dismissively. “Doesn’t matter now… I’m glad I could use it for this occasion.” It wasn’t lost on him that she had likely been saving that wine for her and Jake and a tinge of jealousy gnawed at him. He was jealous that Jake had all of those years with Abby. Hell, he found himself feeling jealous of everyone who had known her for so long. It blew his mind that people had met her, known her, though not fallen in love with her, or, worse, had loved her and fallen out of love with her. It baffled him.

Leaving his thoughts, he looked around at the elaborate table setting and blew out a puff of air, smiling fondly.

“What?” she asked, eyeing him curiously.

“We’re spoiling ourselves with all of these fancy dates so early on.”

“Well, most of our time spent together in the beginning was at the gym or on the phone so I’d say we deserve it. Besides, tonight’s a special occasion.”

“Yeah?” Marcus asked from behind his glass. “How so?” He cut the lamb with his knife and took a bite, it nearly melted in his mouth. “Mmm.” He felt Abby lean over and take his hand. She was so close he could smell her perfume. She smelled of the French countryside: sweet meadow air that blew through a lavender field; a whiff of the Bordeaux on her breath whisking him away to a southwestern French vineyard.

“Marcus?”

He drew his gaze to meet hers. Her rich coffee brown eyes were piercing, her face uneasy. He reached for her hand. Silently, for several beats, fingers twined together, then untangled, as they sought the quiet comfort of one another’s touch. With a gentle nod of encouragement, he watched her attentively—listening, waiting…

His heart thundered in his chest as she slowly released a deep breath. As he ran a gentle thumb over the back of her hand he could feel her clammy palms. “I’m sorry about the other day,” she slowly replied. “When you told me that you loved me… I got scared. The truth is…” she hesitated. “It’s just taken me some time to trust again.”

“To trust me?” His brow furrowed and the concern he tried to hide in his voice escaped with full force.

She shook her head immediately. “No.” A reassuring hand clasped tightly onto his knee. “To trust _myself_. To trust myself to open up to someone again. But you’re right. Life is too short to not be open with how you feel….” Next, she breathed out a phrase that robbed him of voice. “I love you, too, Marcus.”

There was a slow roll of his throat. He blinked as if trying to process what had just happened, if he had just heard her correctly. His jaw fell slack. She said it again. “I love you.” Her eyes shone bright with tears that began to spill out, hanging loosely off her long, dark lashes for only a heartbeat before rolling slowly down her cheeks. Her hands found his face, fingers threaded into his beard. When he still didn’t reply, she smiled nervously. “Say something, you idiot,” she said with a laugh.

This finally brought him out of his rattled stupor. A breathless chuckle left his lips. “You made me wait a whole day. I can’t make you wait a few minutes?”

A smile split her features and she threw her head back with a deep belly cackle.

Finally, he brought his hands to her face, and, wiping the tears away, whispered, “I love you, Abby.”

He watched as all the tension left her shoulders, falling visibly relieved. She exhaled as if she had been holding in a breath. “Okay… Good… Let’s have dessert, now, shall we?”

She left the room and returned with a three tiered cherry chocolate cake. Marcus smiled and raised a brow as she placed a plate of cake in front of him. “This looks familiar.”

She explained to him that after being kindly ushered out of Callie’s house before noon because her friend had requested to nap the day away, she called the chef who Marcus had hired to cater the date they had at the old Victorian homestead. It was too last-minute of a request to get him to cater, but she _was_ convincing enough to snag the recipe of the dessert from him—the dessert they had missed out on during their date because she had to leave early. She shared with him a bit more about her visit with Callie that morning and how it made her realize how perfect the two of them were together and that she needed to push aside any reservations she had and just be open with her feelings.

“I’m sorry for Callie, but glad that it helped you make a decision about us,” he said, his plate already clear save for a few stray crumbs.

“I would have come to my senses eventually,” she said with a smirk. “But I’m glad I had a push.”

“Me too. You could have made me sweat a _lot_ longer.”

Her cheeks lifted. “I _could_ have. But you’ve been nothing but patient with me this whole time. You don’t deserve that. I’m not into playing games, Marcus, and I think you know that. I’m serious about us.”

It wasn’t that he needed that confirmation from Abby. He knew she wouldn’t have went through all that she did with Clarke just for him to be some rebound or fling. But, even still, it was reassuring to hear from her.

After they’d finished cleaning up, they retreated to the living room to unwind and finish off the bottle of Bordeaux. With the likes of Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, and Smokey Robinson playing softly in the background and the fireplace blaring, shadows from the flickering flames dancing on their faces as they nursed their glasses of wine, his feet propped up on the ottoman and Abby’s feet propped up on his lap.

“So, an old friend’s coming to town soon,” he said as he kneaded his fingers into Abby’s feet. “We played soccer together. I’d like for you to meet him.”

She hummed. Her eyes remained closed, her voice velvet soft and tranquil. “Ooh. An old friend from your soccer days, huh? I can’t wait to learn all the dirt on you,” she quipped, earning a chuckle from Marcus.

“There is no dirt… Okay, yes there is. I was a player on and off the field, but…” He paused and allowed his hands to slowly move from her feet up her long, smooth legs. He gradually shifted until he was on top of her and she wrapped her legs around him invitingly. With his lips to her ear, their bodies pressed tightly against the other, he whispered, “I’ve gotten that out of my system.”

He began to ravage her neck with hungry kisses, then her breasts. Her breath was hot against his ear as she moaned words of encouragement. His hands slid up her thighs and under her dress and he hooked two long fingers into the seam of her panties, yanking them down with ease. “You’re the only one I want,” he whispered. His fingers teased her entrance, already slick for him. She stifled a moan. He frowned. “Don’t hold back,” he whispered roughly. “I want to hear you.”

His fingers moved inside her. She writhed with pleasure. “Marcus,” she sighed.

He quickened his pace. “Louder,” he commanded, his free hand tightened around her jaw, emphasizing his request.

Her hips bucked rhythmically to match his pace. “Oh!” she exclaimed. Her eyes were dark with a voracious need for release and the look flashed heat through him. A buildup of desire for her burned low in him. He was agonizingly, _painfully_ hard.

She began to tremble beneath him and—“FUCK!” she all but screamed. He smiled, satisfied, as she convulsed.

“Atta girl,” he said smugly with a lick of his fingers. He peeled himself off of her and stood, leisurely removing his pants. “My turn,” he growled.

He made love to her again and again. If it wasn’t a work week, they probably would have made love until the sun came up. He had convinced himself that it wouldn’t be better than the first time… still, it just kept surpassing all expectations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to Mel for looking things over! and thank you everyone for the help and encouragement! as always, comments and kudos are appreciated. I read and reply to all comments and they make my day! THANK YOU!


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